


Moshi Moshi

by sidnihoudini



Series: Fork and Knife [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Drinking, Established Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, MEN!!!!, NOT SUB SEB, Weed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 07:56:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 105
Words: 57,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7093318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidnihoudini/pseuds/sidnihoudini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day in the life, from 2010 to 2019.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. pious and pretty with a deadly disease

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> If you're new to the Fork and Knife universe, have no fear - this is where you want to start!
> 
> Although there is also a [series page for Fork and Knife](http://archiveofourown.org/series/471925), I've linked each story in the series here in Moshi Moshi, in the correct place the story falls within the timeline.
> 
> If you'd like to be notified whenever there's an update, I recommend subscribing to Moshi Moshi [and the series itself](http://archiveofourown.org/series/471925)!
> 
> I love to hear your thoughts + am happy to answer questions over on [my tumblr](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com) :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @bowie28: Evanstan prompt: How about the first meeting(s)? Chris said in an interview he’d never met Seb before Cap1 while Sebastian said he’d seen Chris around because small world in Hollywood. I wonder if Chris simply hadn’t noticed Seb back then.
> 
> anon also asked: First meeting/First impressions (or if not first, very early ones) from each or (possibly) both of them? – hi, it me, anon

_New York, 2009_

Seb slides his fingers around the eight shots of tequila, and turns away from the bar.

Everyone is sitting over there in a booth, even though the girls keep dipping out to dance and visit the bathroom. It’s a short walk back, but it’s crowded tonight. Seb sets the shots down on the table, and falls into the booth beside Leighton.

“You’re fucked up,” she laughs, eyes narrowing as she immediately clocks the look in his eyes.

Grinning slow and wicked, he presses his chin to his shoulder, and bats his eyelashes.

“We have work tomorrow,” he replies, leaning back to smile some more and run a hand through his sweaty hair. When she gives him a look, he tips his chin up a little, and adds, “I’m an angel.”

She laughs at him, but also reaches for a shot of tequila.

~

It’s midnight. It’s 1AM. It’s 2AM.

It’s 3AM, and Seb is stumbling back out of the women’s bathroom, head down as he wipes his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. He grins, big and wild, at the first person he sees, and then laughs as he staggers up behind Chace and wraps an arm around him from behind.

“How’s my friend,” Seb laughs in his ear, shaking him a little bit.

Chace gets himself twisted back out of Seb’s grip, and, a few minutes later, they’re back at the bar.

“It’s packed in here tonight,” Chace yells, trying to signal the bartender. “I hate it!”

Shrugging, Seb taps his fingers against the edge of the bar, extra energy needing to go somewhere, and chews on his bottom lip as he looks around. The area they usually sit in is all roped off tonight, and he squints, trying to see through the fray.

“Who’s that?” Seb asks, nodding his head towards the area.

Distracted, Chace yells at the bartender, and waves a $20 bill in the air.

Seb holds onto the edge of the bar and leans, curious enough to squint through the assorted girls lingering around the rope, waiting for their chance to get in.

When Chace steps away from the bar, drink in hand, he bumps Seb with his elbow, trying to get his attention as he tilts his head back in the direction of their table.

Distracted, Seb scratches behind his ear, and follows after Chace without thinking.

~

“Oh my god, is THAT who that is?!” Leighton yell-laughs, voice directly in Seb’s ear even though she’s talking with one of her girlfriends on the other side of the table.

Making a face, Seb grimaces at her first, and then turns to look over his shoulder.

The seas have parted just enough to see through into the makeshift VIP area, where there’s still an entourage of dudes in ill-fitting black jeans and button up shirts. There’s also two girls for every one of them, all dressed in leather and white.

“Who are we talking about?” Seb asks, eyebrows knotting as he turns back around to look at everyone, hoping for some kind of clue.

There is absolutely nothing special about the group of dudes sitting over there. Half of them remind Seb of every guy he met in Jersey: Seb knows a hot guy when he sees one, fucked up and from across the club or not.

“Oh, bitch,” one of Leighton’s friends laughs, pulling her iPhone out of her bra.

In about thirty seconds, Seb has a handful of ass and boob. He’s fucked up - but he’s not that fucked up - and as he stares at the dude in the pictures, pretty hot, even by Seb’s standards, he thinks, “not bad.”

Seb hands the phone back, and, a few seconds later, sneaks a surreptitious glance back over one shoulder.

~

Seb straightens up, sniffing, and flushes the toilet to complete the illusion.

Outside his stall, a girl is banging on the door, making it rattle against the loose lock and hinges as she yells, “Oh my GOD what are you DOING in there!!”

She totters back and forth, clunky heels clattering on the tile. On his side of the door, Seb wipes his face on his sleeve - blood dripping from your nose is never a good look - and then leans back against the stall wall, letting the wash of adrenaline coast over him.

As he unlocks the door, it immediately bangs open as the girl slaps it again, surprised this time when it swings open. Seb offers up a sweet smile and a, “It’s all yours,” as she scowls at him, and immediately pulls the guy she’s with in after her.

Heading over to the sink, Seb shakes his head - he’s a little swimmy, one last bump might have been a bad idea - and rinses his hands off, blinking at himself in the crusty mirror as the cold water washes over his hands.

On his way back out into the hall, he bangs into another guy coming in shoulder first.

“Woah, sorry,” Seb apologizes, spinning a little to the side with the weight of the force from the bang.

As he turns, he looks up, and realizes it’s the dude everyone was gawking at earlier.

The guy barely looks at Seb twice, just offers up a quick, “No worries, dude,” as he walks away.


	2. you're what makes new england so great

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: the same anon! I read the evanstan & how they first get together fic and loved it. how about an actual /first/ time they got together](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145499422805/anon-asked-the-same-anon-i-read-the-evanstan)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You mean THE SEX

_2010_

**10:00 pm**

“Hey, me and the sound guys are going out for drinks,” Sebastian says, poking his head into Chris’s trailer. He raises his eyebrows and asks, “You wanna come?”

That’s where the night starts.

**10:23 pm**

“First round’s on me,” Chris grins, setting a tray of beers from the bar down on the table.

The crew breaks out into cheers, hands reaching as everyone moves for their own pint, glasses clinking together and spilling beer onto the table. Laughing, Chris waits for everyone to grab their glass, and then snags the last two, one for himself, and one for Sebastian - currently in the bathroom.

Sebastian gets back a minute after the waitress has come back around to retrieve the tray.

“I saved one for you,” Chris smiles, arching an eyebrow. He slides the glass along the table top, leaving a streak of condensation in its wake.

Licking his bottom lip, Sebastian grins, and accepts the glass.

“Next one’s on me,” He promises.

**11:01 pm**

One of the sound guys texts a first AD, and an hour later, their group has grown by two sizes and four departments.

**12:45 am**

It’s not that the drinking gets out of control, it’s just that tonight’s group consists of:

Two men from Boston, one guy from Ireland, a Romanian, and a handful of dudes from Florida.

That’s practically a recipe for marathon drinking, and all Chris knows is, he’s gotta hold up his end of the country. He and Barry - the guy from the south side - go head and head, slamming back shots and shooting the shit while the remainder of the group hangs out at the table behind them. 

Some guys have gone off looking to get laid - they’ve all got two consecutive nights off - while others hang out at the table, ranting about the parts of work Chris doesn’t understand, like audio and lighting.

Sebastian’s throwing his head back and laughing. The guy fits in with everyone, it’s one of the qualities Chris admires most about him. Chris finds himself watching Sebastian longer and longer the drunker he gets.

**1:15 am**

They’re pressed thigh to thigh in the booth side of their table.

One of the sound guys is telling the story about Hayley tripping over a crash pad earlier in the week, and Chris is laughing, throwing his head back and drunkenly cackling at the ceiling.

Their arms are brushing, Chris’s t-shirt catching against the sleeve of Sebastian’s denim jacket.

Someone brings over a new round of drinks and everyone cheers. Shots are handed out, tequila this time, salt shakers and lime. Chris throws his back on ‘3′ and sucks the lime as hard as he can, eyes pinching closed from the taste.

The sides of their feet are bumping underneath the table. The first time it happens, it’s Sebastian’s fault and Chris pulls away. The second time it’s Chris’s fault, and they both leave their feet there.

**2:00 am**

There’s only a skeleton crew left: Chris, Sebastian, Mike from sound, and Tony the camera assistant.

Mike and Tony have fucked off to smoke outside - something that Chris will not cop to drunkenly taking part in when he’s around work acquaintances.

It’s weird to be alone with Sebastian outside of work. Chris knows they’ve been circling one another for months now, always with the jokes and the quiet conversations while they wait for the sound guys to finish setting up. He doesn’t think anyone else has noticed; if they have, no one’s said a word to him yet.

Chris signals for the bill. It’s last call and the drinks are mostly all gone, Seb’s still working on his last inch of Jim Beam while Chris is about ten pints in the hole.

“Hey,” Sebastian murmurs, voice rough from drinking and yelling. He arches an eyebrow, drunk, and asks, “Do you wanna share a cab?”

**2:23 am**

“See you Tuesday!” Chris yells, as Sebastian ducks into the backseat of the cab ahead of him. He points at Mike and Tony over the edge of the door, both of whom are still smoking at the curb, and reiterates, “TUESDAY!”

They wave Chris off, laughing, and then Sebastian is tugging him into the back seat of the cab, one hand on the side of Chris’s belt.

“Hey,” Chris laughs, falling against the back seat and grinning, “Hands off the merchandise.”

Sebastian smiles, too, all flushed in the cheeks, as the cab driver navigates away from the curb. They’ve been living out of the same hotel, Sebastian a floor above Chris. Sometimes when Chris is trying to fall asleep at night he wonders what Sebastian is doing up there.

“Busy night?” Sebastian asks the cab driver, cracking his window open and settling back against the seat. Chris notices that he presses back into the middle until they’re shoulder to shoulder again.

He turns his head to the side, watches Sebastian’s profile.

A few blocks later, the cab driver gets a call and switches to Punjabi, talking loudly into his Bluetooth as they navigate the mostly empty city streets. Every time they pass a bar, a group of drunk early twenty somethings try to flag the cab down.

Chris doesn’t care about them. He’s got tunnel vision. He can’t stop staring at Sebastian. Sebastian’s hand is on his own knee, palm up, thumb rubbing against the rough skin of his pointer finger.

They go around a bend as Chris reaches forward to hold it.

Sebastian turns to look at him, one eyebrow raising. Chris holds his gaze for a moment - and god, what a fucking moment, crackling and hot from the booze, all their inhibitions long gone - and then he’s holding the side of Sebastian’s face instead of his hand, and they’re kissing.

It’s a fucking _kiss_. Sebastian leans into it, turning so they’re no longer shoulder to shoulder, and mouths at Chris’s bottom lip, groaning softly when Chris slips his tongue against Sebastian’s.

“Yeah?” Chris asks, breathless, voice shaking.

Sebastian nods, swallows, replies, “Yeah.”

**2:43 am**

They’re trying to be quiet in the hotel corridor.

Chris is laughing again, but now he’s got both hands around Sebastian’s waist. He’s tugging at Sebastian’s fly and sliding both palms up under his t-shirt.

“I can’t get - wait,” Seb laughs, breathing heavily. He fumbles with the keycard and murmurs over his shoulder, “I just need a second to-”

He trails off into a moan when Chris starts to suck up the side of his neck, tongue warm and wet. He smells fucking good. Sebastian notices that, even as his body betrays him and they stagger a little, thumping against the doorframe. 

Chris groans into the nape of Sebastian’s neck, one hand jerking out to brace their combined body weight against the door while the other holds onto Sebastian’s hip, holding him steady as Chris grinds into him from behind.

He’s hard as fuck. Chris is pretty sure if any more blood gets rerouted to his dick, he’s gonna end up light headed. He wonders if Sebastian notices.

(Sebastian notices. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_ , Sebastian is chanting under his breath. His sweaty forehead skids against the plastic coating on the door as he gives in and arches back into Chris.

See, Chris, as it turns out, does not fuck around. Five months of shooting and Seb has seen him joke and laugh and talk to every single person who’s crossed his path. But this is not that Chris. The Chris who agreed to get a cab with him tonight is someone Sebastian’s never met before.

This Chris is fucking wild, hands everywhere, flushed and grabby and hung like a fucking horse.

Seb is so glad he can now die knowing exactly what Chris is packing in those jeans.)

**2:46 am**

“My card isn’t working,” Sebastian groans, breath sharp as Chris pushes his fingers into Sebastian’s ass, just a tease through the back of his underwear.

Sebastian turns to look over his shoulder, get Chris’s take on the situation.

Fingers still happily sliding up and down Sebastian’s ass, thumb up pressing into the small of his back, Chris looks up, tries hard to focus on the number right above Sebastian’s head.

“Wrong floor,” He laughs, leaning in. They kiss messily for a long moment, Sebastian’s tongue sliding against the stubbled corner of Chris’s mouth, before Chris breaks away, breathing heavy, and says, “We’re on 10.”

**3:01 am**

They’re in Chris’s room because Sebastian is incapable of routing them in any kind of direction at this point.

“We can’t let this get weird,” Chris babbles, pulling Sebastian’s legs up over his shoulders, butting the head of his cock against Sebastian’s ass.

Seb arches his back and groans, grabbing at Chris’s arm and his hair.

“It won’t, it won’t,” He promises, tilting his head back against the sheets. They’re still all messed up from when Chris got out of bed this morning - no housekeeping, please - and Chris can tell the casual intimacy of seeing them makes Seb’s toes curl.

Chris is no longer looking at him, though. He’s deeply enchanted by the way his dick looks rubbing over Sebastian’s ass, takes a break only to groan and lurch forward, leaning fully over Sebastian’s torso until they can kiss again.

When Chris starts to push in, it’s single handedly the most overwhelming sexual experience of his adult life. His breath leaves him like a punch as Sebastian yanks harder at the hair on the back of Chris’s head, trying to tilt his own hips up and take more.

“Oh you gotta be patient,” Chris is murmuring, staring at where he’s pressing inside of Seb. “You gotta, you gotta - oh god, fuck, oh god.”

Seb’s expression softens and he groans, reaching down to jerk himself off, slow and purposeful so this isn’t over too quick.

**5:23 am**

“Thanks for the,” Seb trails off stupidly, standing at the end of the bed in his underwear. He gestures with one hand, “Drinks. You know.”

On the bed, Chris is still breathing heavy, but they’re both a little more sober now, a bit better at reining in the feelings.

“Yeah,” He nods, trying to wipe the lingering sweat off his face. “It was fun, good night all around. I liked that bar!”

Seb nods, bounces around on one foot while he gets his pants back on. When he looks up, Chris looks away.

“Goodnight,” Seb murmurs, bites his bottom lip, thinks about it for a half a second before he closes the distance between them and holds Chris by the face to press a kiss to his mouth.

He goes to take a step back but Chris pulls him back in by the t-shirt for another kiss.

“Night,” Chris echoes after, looking up at Seb as Seb takes a step back.

With a smile, Sebastian picks his shoes up off the ground and begins to wander in the direction of the door, even though he’s still looking back at Chris on the bed.

“Tuesday,” He says, nodding.


	3. bathed in sun and sunlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: That first morning after from Seb’s POV, since The First Time was (mostly) from Chris’s? – it me again

Seb is still a little drunk.

Back in his hotel room, he throws his jacket over the back of the couch, and starts to strip. As he moves, he feels it - the pull in his thighs, the stubble burn on his neck. Reminders of all the dirty shit he just got up to.

He’s even still a little bit hard. Rubbing his face with both hands, Seb bends over to get the shower going, and then straightens.

That was probably a bad idea. Right? Seb pulls a clean towel down off the shelf behind the door, and tries not to lick his lip where it’s all swollen from Chris sucking on it.

It feels like it should be a bad idea but honestly Seb doesn’t feel anything other than exceptionally pleased with himself right now.

Maybe when he sobers up the rest of the way.

He has his shower and checks himself out in the mirror afterwards. The collateral damage is not that bad, aside from the red splotches on his throat and the bruise starting to happen on his butt cheek.

On his way to bed, he snags his phone and the room service menu, crawls under the blankets, and jerks off one last time.

It wasn’t a bad idea. Right?

Whatever. Seb orders waffles.

He is definitely still a little bit drunk.


	4. boy sat at our table and ate everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Or in the same vein as my previous ask, The Second Time, and the both of them maybe dancing around it, because it’s been obvious from the beginning it was gonna be an on-going thing during the rest of TFA filming, but it’s maybe not that easy/a bit awkward to jump into it the second time around? Or: is it actually so easy and natural? I need to knooooooow :p

Chris clears his throat and rereads the same line for the third time.

“Oh now you’ve got to tell me what’s going on,” Hayley grins, settling her laser focus on Chris from over the top edge of her script.

Damnit. Chris shifts. He’s wearing Cap’s pants and a hoodie and neither of them are going to do anything about containing the boner he’s got coming his way if he keeps thinking about-

Seb, biting the hotel blanket, dick-drunk and making all kinds of noises as Chris pressed him down by the hips and sunk in again and-

“Nothing’s going on.” He feels the back of his neck go red and hot. She squints at him. “Just- you know. Nervous about this stunt.”

Hayley doesn’t buy it.

“Right,” she drawls, narrowing her eyes some more.

*

The crew heads to the bar for a round the next night.

He looks up from where his hair lady has got his head tipped all the way forward, chin against his chest, as she buzzes the nape of his neck.

In the mirror, he gets to see exactly two seconds of Seb rummaging around in his jacket hanging off the wall, before he gets his head pushed back down.

“You going out tonight?” Jeannie asks, snapping her gum.

Even though he’s gonna get jabbed for it a second time, he looks up again, just in time to catch Seb looking over at him curiously.

“I’m thinking about it.” Oh is he ever. “How about you?”

*

With his extra fresh Steve hair, Chris rolls into the pub trying not to look too earnest about it.

He feels his belly flip the second he spots Seb sitting around one of the crowded tables. Wedged between an audio tech and their boom operator, he laughs and waves one hand around, clearly in the middle of some kind of tale.

Chris unzips his jacket, and, feeling suddenly bashful, makes his way across the crowded pub.

When a couple of the guys see him coming, they start to make room, wiggling apart from one another on the bench-style seat. Chris ends up sitting across from Seb, and a few spots down.

Doesn’t stop them from looking at each other all night, though. Chris has a couple of beers and feels himself flush as he tries to sneak a look over, but finds Seb already watching.

His chest gets all hot and clammy. With a smile, he turns back to his beer, and tries not to touch his face.

*

“Hey.” It’s the first thing Seb has said to him directly all night. Chris looks up from where he’s paying his tab. “Heading back?”

Chris accepts his credit card back, and nods, trying to sign his receipt and talk normal at the same time.

“Yeah, you know,” he manages, only successfully doing one of those things. “Pretty tired.”

Seb smiles at him, mouth soft, and says, “Gotcha.”

“No! I- uh.” Didn’t mean to say that, Chris thinks, helplessly wedging his credit card back into his wallet. “I mean, I think I’m just gonna order a movie and relax.”

When the bartender hands Chris his copy of the receipt, Seb smiles at her.

“You wanna...” Chris trails off and rubs behind his ear, where Jeannie was trimming earlier. “You wanna join?”

Seb’s gaze immediately slides back to meet his.

“Yeah,” he says. “Just gotta grab my coat.”


	5. monster mash - 2010

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2010](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19339501)


	6. a very merry christmas - 2010

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2010](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20550118)


	7. I am uncaught and still swimming alone in the lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: i am absolutely living for your fork and knife series, is there anyway you can do more angst? i live for some angsty evanstan, ur an amazing writer !!](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/146138969440/anon-asked-i-am-absolutely-living-for-your-fork)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a l w a y s here for angst. And thank you!!

_2011_

His publicist is always emailing him shit.

The movie’s wrapped. Last time anyone heard any news from post-production, they were still on schedule for a July release. He and Chris have been texting a little here and there - nothing serious. Sebastian can never figure out what to say.

They last saw one another a month ago. Two weeks after wrapping, they met up for a drink that ended up continuing back at Chris’s place in LA.

Seb spent the next day hungover, alone, and packing up his hotel room.

In the end, he only had two boxes of stuff to ship back to New York. It hardly seemed like enough after spending almost a year away from home; between the sound stage in California and the shoots in England, Seb doesn’t remember the last night he spent in Manhattan.

He’s thinking about all this the morning he gets an email about an upcoming event. His publicist puts in italics that Chris is already confirmed to be there, would Seb like to get a seat at the same table?

 _Yeah,_ Seb shoots back, standing in his kitchen in his underwear. It’s raining outside, has been since he first woke up. Seb did miss weather. _Do I know anybody else there?_

His Blackberry goes back on the counter, and then he cleans up the kitchen a little. It buzzes as he’s jamming the cereal back in the cupboard.

_Attendees haven’t been publicly released yet. Chris is going to the venue from the airport, he’ll meet you there. It’s black tie. Don’t be late._

_Sure,_ Seb replies. His stomach twists in nervous anticipation.

~

Growing up, Seb could never really picture the person he’d one day end up with.

His friends always knew the kinda girl they wanted. American. Always blond, big tits. The opposite of what they saw all day. They wanted girls with bright pink lipstick, teased hair, wide hips. Peggy Bundy.

Seb never got that picture in his head. His was always just a blank space; a body with blurry features.

Moving to America changed that. It hyper-sexualized him. He went from a crumbling city full of gaunt, depressed people, to the oversaturation of New York City in the middle of the 90s tech boom.

The first time Seb ever felt that dip in his gut, he was thirteen years old and looking up at a subway ad for Calvin Klein. It’s been twenty years and men in underwear still do things to Seb’s head.

Finding out what he wanted in a guy was a learning experience. Girls were easier - he almost related to them on some level - but dudes were a fucking trip. He wanted someone kind. A good man. Someone capable and big and tall and warm.

And then Chris Evans waltzed into his life.

~

Seb’s in his tux in a town car that Friday night.

The event is happening at the Lincoln Center. It’s a benefit for the performing arts, and Seb has no idea how he’s attached to it, just that the Marvel machine runs vast and deep and he’ll go where they ask him to without further question.

His ride across town is quiet. Light rain hits the cab windows and rolls down the glass; Seb plays snake on his phone and tries not to think about the last time he saw Chris the night before he left LA.

It was a long night. They sat across from one another at the bar, drinking doubles and laughing and moving closer and closer until they were pressed together from shoulder to thigh on the same side of the booth.

And then at 2AM, the drunken cab ride to Chris’s apartment, laughing and flirting and licking the cigarette taste out of Chris’s mouth. The lonely ride back to his hotel afterwards, the digital clock beneath the car dashboard blinking 5:55 AM.

He was still drunk when he got to the airport three hours later.

“Big night?” His cab driver asks, catching Seb’s reflection in the rear view mirror.

Seb pulses a smile - quick, but not sharp - and nods.

“Work, you know,” He manages, gaze flickering back to look outside.

~

Chris is alone but surrounded by a group of people.

“Seb!” He exclaims, with a big grin on his face when he catches Seb’s eye over someone else’s head.

And just like that - goddamnit, just like that - Seb is fulfilled. He could walk forever as long as someone, somewhere, let him see that smile every couple of miles.

As soon as they’re within touching distance, Chris wraps him up in a hug.

Seb grabs back, eyes closing as Chris presses his face into Seb’s shoulder like he always does, and squeezes him tight. It’s over too fast; the suit feels so good between Seb’s palms and Chris’s body.

Being within arm’s reach of Chris is always a gamble. He wants to lean into it when Chris pats him on the back, but then they’re pulling away. Seb clocks it when he catches Chris looking down at his suit.

It’s fast - Chris is a pro - but his gaze goes from Seb’s eyes down to his lips, further down to his body, and then back up again.

And after he looks at Seb’s mouth, he licks his own.

Seb takes a full step back, trying to put some distance between them even as he feels himself crackle with energy. Chris reaches out with one arm, an unnatural stretch, so he can pat Seb on the shoulder one last time.

“You made it,” He finally says, smiling. Seb tries not to look at the place on Chris’s top lip that he likes to bite.

Instead he laughs breathily, jerks his eyebrows up, and agrees, “Here I am.”

Chris’s smile turns into a full grin and, god, Seb feels himself melt.

Being out in the wild like this is so much harder than Seb thought it would be.

~

He gets a BBM after Chris has been out of his eye line for 15 minutes.

_Chris Evans: Go through the catering door_

_Chris Evans: Take a right_

_Chris Evans: Up the stairs there's a door on the left_

Stomach twisting, Seb reads the messages one more time, bites his bottom lip, and looks around. It feels like everyone around him knows.

In that moment, it doesn’t matter. His dick wins out.

He replies,

_Sebastian Stan: Yes_

~

It’s been so long, Seb’s hindbrain takes over the thinking for him.

He knows he’s being obvious about it. His body is already anticipating the flood of adrenaline and attraction it knows is coming its way, and it’s making him giddy and stupid.

Chris’s instructions aren’t complicated, but Seb’s got to concentrate anyways, mind suddenly on a track it won’t derail from. He almost bumps into a server coming out of the catering entrance, then has to slow himself down when he starts taking the stairs two at a time.

He’s raising his hand to tap on the door when it opens suddenly, and Chris yanks him inside.

“Woah,” Seb breathes. His eyes are trying to adjust to the darkness, hands reaching out automatically as Chris pushes him back against the closed door.

Chris kisses him hard. Seb lets out an involuntary noise and kisses back, knows it’s a bad idea just like coming up here at all was, but he can’t help sinking into the feeling of Chris brushing his thumbs along Seb’s jawline, fingers coming to rest on the soft skin below Seb’s ears.

“The second I saw you,” Chris manages, but can’t finish his thought before he leans in and kisses Seb again, eyes drifting closed as he does so. He pulls himself back an inch, thumbing Seb’s jawline, and admits, “Sorry, I didn’t - the, the caveman thing...”

Seb’s panting already. He shakes his head and replies, “No, no, I...”

 _I liked it,_ is what he wants to say. It’s hard to admit he knows better than to say it out loud.

Chris makes a wounded noise and closes the distance between them again, one hand sliding to brush through Seb’s hair as the other rests on the side of Seb’s face, thumb tugging down Seb’s bottom lip even as they kiss.

“Every time I’m in New York, I think about you,” Chris admits, and that’s when Seb realizes Chris is already a little drunk.

Seb licks his lips, leans in, and presses a kiss to Chris’s mouth anyways.

He doesn’t know how many times Chris has been in New York since they wrapped shooting. It doesn’t matter.

“We should...” Seb starts, tilts his head away when Chris moves back in for another kiss. When Seb moves, Chris sucks at the side of Seb’s neck instead, nosing down into the collar of his shirt. He’s hard as a rock and pressing against Seb’s thigh. “It’s just - someone might find out.”

It’s a lie. Here’s the truth: Seb realizes, in that exact moment, he’s unequipped to deal with the emotional fallout walking away from Chris again will cause.

Chris’s entire body sags against his; Seb doesn’t know whether he believes Seb’s lie, or if he can secretly read Seb’s mind. Either way, he seems to agree with the sentiment.

“Yeah,” He murmurs, tucking his face against Seb’s shoulder one last time.

Seb knows it’s the right thing to do. But that doesn’t make it easy.

~

Having sex with Chris is amazing.

It’s consistently the most fulfilling fuck Seb has ever had. It’s chemistry, fucking science, like their atoms are just meant to exist within the same area of the universe. How lucky Seb feels to even be a part of that.

Sometimes.

Other times:

Seb drinks as little as possible through the remainder of the night.

He knows if he gets drunk he’ll lose the little self control he’s displaying. One too many drinks and who knows what he’d try. Chris looks at him all night; they’re sitting across from one another at the table.

Seb pretends he doesn’t notice it, but he feels Chris’s gaze like he’s standing too close to a bare light bulb. They’re short glances, soft and lonely and meant for no one other than Seb.

He lets himself be crushed beneath the weight of Chris’s ever growing presence in his life.

The event itself is fine. It’s long and tedious but Seb is being paid to be here, so he’ll continue to do his job. Halfway through the night, in-between speakers, Chris excuses himself to the bar, and comes back with a girl on his arm.

“Anyway, this is where I am,” Chris finishes whatever they were saying, as they come to stand beside Chris’s chair.

Seb blinks at the table cloth and dares himself not to look up.

“It was good to see you!” She exclaims, giving him a kiss on the cheek as he sits down; he immediately tries to stand up again and she laughs. “I better get back to my table before it starts again, but I’ll catch up with you outside.”

Swallowing compulsively, Seb reaches up and tries to work the knot of his tie away from his adam’s apple.

He tries to concentrate on the next speech, too, but Chris is still sending him those glances. Seb ends up getting up for a drink halfway through.

~

Chris is a fucking dickhead who probably has an entire roster of fuck buddies in different cities.

Parts of Seb know this; the other parts, they see Chris differently. Those parts of Seb only remember the way Chris is when something really tickles him, and he laughs loud and genuine. He thinks about Chris’s face whenever he sees a new picture of his nephew or dog.

He sees Chris in all of the quiet little moments that other people seem to forget about when faced with those blue eyes, big arms, and friendly personality.

Those secret parts of Chris are the ones that Seb covets. They break Seb’s heart every time he gets close, close enough to touch them, only to have them pulled away gently and placed behind lock and key once more.

~

Once the speeches have been wrapped up, the majority of the crowd disperses.

Chris excuses himself to go outside.

Seb manages about five more minutes at their table before following.

Outside, it’s a mess of networking. Seb can’t separate one suit from another, but he still manages to pick Chris out of the crowd.

Then he notices the girl he’s got his arm wrapped around.

Seb lurks around for a while, feeling stupid - reckless. He chats with a few people he kind of knows, and comments on the night’s speakers with the people he doesn’t know at all.

By the time he naturally makes his way over to Chris, Seb is practically crackling through his skin.

The four drinks he ended up throwing back give him the confidence he needs to walk up to Chris and say goodbye, even though Chris is still talking with the girl he bumped into inside.

“Hey,” Seb says, reaching to grab Chris’s shoulder.

His body angles itself to compliment Chris’s automatically. Seb tries not to read into the way Chris turns around mid-conversation, too, still talking even as he looks right into Seb’s face.

Just atoms, waiting to go home.

“Hey!” Chris exclaims, as Seb adds, “I’m going to get out of here.”

Seb knows Chris does it without thinking. He lets go of the girl he met during dinner - she catches Seb’s eye over Chris’s shoulder - and wraps his arms around Seb’s body instead, one hand on his waist as the other comes up to cup the back of his skull.

And Seb, he can’t help but sink into it. He closes his eyes as Chris presses his nose into that familiar spot over Seb’s clavicle, and takes a deep breath.

Chris smells good. Like he did upstairs, plus fresh cigarette smoke.

“I’ll call you,” Chris says, tipsy.

Seb manages a smile, and lets go.

"Sure," He says quietly, lying right to Chris's face. "I'll see you soon."


	8. monster mash - 2011

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2011](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19156867)


	9. a very merry christmas - 2011

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2011](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20379388)


	10. and the coastline is quiet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: im obsessed with your fork and knife verse; can i lesse get some seb angst (bonus for chris freaking out) bless you for bring this into my life](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/146591874920/anon-asked-im-obsessed-with-your-fork-and-knife)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably not the kind of Seb angst you meant but here we are anyway hahaha.

_2012_

_“Hey, I uh, don’t know if you’re not getting my texts or... what, but, uh, I’ll be in town this weekend if you - if you, you know. If you want to hang out.”_

Beep.

~

2012 is already off to a rocky fucking start.

Chris has been hungover for two days when he shows up to the gym on a Wednesday. His trainer gives him shit, goading Chris, seeing how hard he can go after taking a month off for the holidays.

After their workout Chris is all jacked up on adrenaline, and on the walk back to his car it’s hard to sort his head out.

Today is January 5th and he’s still in Boston. He’s got to be back in LA for the end of the month, and before that he’s scheduled to spend a week in New York taking meetings.

In the meantime, Sebastian isn’t returning his calls.

It’s - it’s stupid, is what it is, letting it get to him like this. They were real clear with one another from the start: no strings, no attachments, no harm, no foul.

If Seb decided to drop off the face of the earth tomorrow, he could do it without sparing Chris a second glance. Chris is well aware that Seb doesn’t owe him jack shit; he’d just have to be okay with it. That was the agreement.

Because what they had wasn’t a relationship. He knew that going into it; it’s what he wanted. It wasn’t a white picket fence and they never bought living room furniture or planned for the holidays.

It was sex. And now, Chris is making it weird.

~

He’s in New York a few days later, driving himself in a rental car from the airport to his hotel.

The hotel is, decidedly, not in Manhattan.

Chris has been amped up all fucking week. His head is all over the place; sometimes he feels like he can’t string a full sentence together, much less get through a meeting with a bunch of studio suits.

He doesn’t realize how fast he’s speeding until he gets pulled over by a fucking cop on a motorbike. The GPS tells him he’s six blocks east of the hotel; Seb would make fun of him for driving a car in New York instead of taking a cab and walking.

It turns out the cop is a fan of Captain America. His dad had the comics. He gets Chris to sign the back of his ticket book, and lets him go with a warning to take it easy in the future.

Chris sits at the side of the road, forehead pressed to the top of the shitty vinyl steering wheel, and shuts his eyes.

New York doesn’t fucking care that he’s two weeks into an already miserable year. Hundreds of people walk past him in the thirty seconds it takes to rally himself.

As he’s straightening up, a delivery truck pulls in behind him and lays on the horn.

“It’s a fucking loading zone, asshole!” He yells into his rearview, sticking up his middle finger for good measure.

Chris is pissed off right through the next set of lights. When he gets to the hotel he pulls into valet and slumps down in his seat to check his phone.

There are no new messages.

~

The promo tour for the movie was... rough, to say the least.

Chris was so fucked up on anti-anxiety meds, he’s pretty sure he blacked the whole thing out - but that might just be wishful thinking.

Sitting in a fucking theatre forty times, watching the two of them together on screen.

Walking with Hayley - god fucking love her - on the carpets.

Toting his mom around like an idiot with something to prove to the world.

Barely talking to Sebastian.

Everybody noticed the way their interactions had changed. Nobody called them out on it, but it was right there, ready to spill if given the opportunity. At least Seb was still answering his texts then - nothing crazy though, nothing like he used to. Just one word answers and ‘haha yeah.’

Chris pushed the limits of their dissolving relationship anyways. Sent a message every now and then to test the waters, to let himself be destroyed over and over with every fresh brick Seb laid against the foundation.

Realistically Chris knew Seb was drawing boundaries, letting this thing they had together come to its natural conclusion: movie wrapped, commitment reached, and there they went, back out into the real world.

They'd joked about Bucky’s death during filming, but Seb knew there was a very real chance he wasn’t coming back for any possible sequels. A potentially dead character coming back to life - comic book canon or not - banked heavily on audience testing.

And then it was just over. All of a sudden the final slate was being clacked, and they were done.

Neither of them ever had the balls to say it, afterwards. To send the text that said: it was fun, and now it’s over. Chris couldn’t fucking do it. One of the last things he remembers saying to Seb before the press tour ice out was at an industry party, and that had practically acted as his parting shot.

_Every time I’m in New York, I think about you._

He was drunk. He meant it. He means it.

They don’t have any real memories in New York together. It was a stopover on the promo tour, but that had all happened so fast neither of them had been given a chance to step over the red velvet ropes.

There’s no reason why Chris should feel so heavy in this city, but here he is, feeling particularly stupid and attached. He can’t help but see Seb’s face in every guy he passes on the sidewalk.

~

_“Hey, maybe I’ve got your old number or something - uhh I hope not, that would be really awkward - just, you know. I’m in town for a couple more days and I wanted to let you know. Alright, uh, maybe I’ll try you later. Bye.”_

Beep.

~

Finding ass isn’t difficult.

The Marvel contract is... detailed. There are more things he’s not allowed to do than things he is. There are public relations clauses and personal life clauses, shit his lawyer has repeatedly drilled into his head.

He’s signed himself to the devil and that’s something that’ll be on his shoulder until the last movie rolls out.

Contract aside, finding a fuck is easy because it’s not like he gets clocked walking down the street. Not yet. The movie was an alright hit, it green lit some shit further down the road, but he’s not exactly A-List.

He can walk across the street and generally make it to the other side.

And yeah, it’s easy to find a casual fuck. He’s been doing it for years, and you know what, shit just gets easier as time goes on, too. The day he installed Grindr his dick grew about five sizes bigger than his heart.

After checking into the hotel, Chris lays in bed, frowning and checking his emails. He doesn’t really love social media, but he keeps up with Facebook when he can.

He checks every notification and replies to every message, trying to distract himself from the feelings bubbling up from his chest.

It lasts about fifteen minutes, and then he opens up three ass apps simultaneously.

He’s restless. He needs something to do. His meetings don’t even start until tomorrow afternoon.

This guy will do just fine.

~

He fucks the guy face down, always does.

Grabs him by the back of the neck and swears, grits his teeth when the guy moans yeah, and fucks into him. He’s out of breath and staring at the guy’s ass, but it’s five shades too tan and all wrong in the torso.

Chris groans, then closes his eyes and pumps his hips, panting but trying to keep it to himself. He tightens his grip on the back of the guy’s neck to make sure he won’t accidentally see his face.

If he closes his eyes, it’s easier to get where he needs to go.

He remembers the night they fucked in his trailer. It was risky, triple checking locks and blinds. They laughed a lot. Chris tugged at Seb’s Bucky costume restlessly, grinning and panting against Seb’s mouth while Seb made him promise nothing would get back to wardrobe.

That same night he caught Seb on his way to his hotel room. Chris hooked his fingers around the inside of Seb’s elbow and walked him backwards into an empty doorway; when they kissed it was warm and familiar, and he’d never wanted anything more.

The memories splinter through Chris’s brain like sharp pieces of glass, so freshly broken they ricochet around like someone has shattered a mirror over his head.

He swears he hears the resulting crash.

“Fuck!” He swears, opening his eyes, gasping.

He looks down, looks at how he’s fucking this totally random guy he found on the fucking internet in the city he’s been dreading visiting for weeks, and feels totally fucking disgusted at himself.

And movie contracts can’t do much about that, can they?

~

Post-trick, the self loathing sets in.

The guy puts his number into Chris’s phone and steals a towel from the bathroom on his way out. Chris doesn’t fucking care. He sits at the foot of the hotel bed with his head in his hands, and talks himself out of getting drunk; he has meetings tomorrow, and there’s no way out of them.

A hangover would make the anxiety so much worse.

“Fuck,” He breathes, curling his hand over his face, closing his eyes and biting his bottom lip. His whole body is shaking, set off by the way his elbow rests on his jiggling knee, foot bouncing restlessly up and down on the hotel carpet.

He takes a shower and then an ambien.

~

_“Hey it’s me, wow this is, really getting kinda sad, huh? Call me. Please?”_

~

The meetings are fine, and the remainder of Chris’s time in New York passes uneventfully.

He ends up meeting up with a buddy of his that moved from Boston to pursue a business idea; they have a couple beers and some wings, and for a few hours Chris actually feels like a human person again.

The minute he’s alone in his hotel room, things go sideways. But that’s hardly a surprise - nothing new there.

For his last night out on the town, he heads east and wanders around the neighborhood on foot. Hands in his pockets, wearing a coat he got from his fucking mom for Christmas, he wanders around, taking in the unfamiliar architecture and storefronts.

He buys a fucking coffee and he sits on a fucking bench and he looks out over the fucking Brooklyn Bridge. He doesn’t get up until a couple of teenage girls start angling their phones in that obvious way, trying to get a picture that includes his face.

Chris hasn’t actually been alone - like this - in almost two years. Between endless shooting schedules and living out of his sister’s guest room over the holidays, this week has really been the first time he’s been left to his own devices in a while.

It’s absolutely terrifying.

It makes him think about what he’s doing, even though those trains of thought never end up anywhere good. He tries to decide why the fuck his head is all fucked up over Seb, but he can’t get anywhere without encountering that sick clammy feeling in his gut first.

He checks his phone - both the Blackberry he’s supposed to use for business, and the personal iPhone he always forgets about - religiously.

Seb never returns his calls.

~

_“Hey, I’m on my way to the airport in a few hours. I just want you to know I, well. I mean, I, I miss you, man. I hope you had a good holiday, and I’d love to see you next time you’re in town. Maybe we can go out for a beer. Bye for uh, for now, I guess. Bye.”_

Beep.

~

In Manhattan, Seb is in his kitchen, wearing nothing but underwear and eating children’s cereal right out of the box.

He doesn’t know it right then, but this is the last call he’ll get from Chris in a very long time.

As his cellphone vibrates its way across the counter, he steps up to the edge, one hand buried in the box of cereal as he eyes the ID screen wearily.

Frowning, Seb pulls his hand out of the box, and reaches for the phone.

He holds it in his palm until it stops ringing.

Maybe one night, when he’s feeling particularly sadistic, he’ll listen to the voicemails Chris has left for him.

This morning he just doesn’t have the nerve.


	11. monster mash - 2012

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2012](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19231111)


	12. a very merry christmas - 2012

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2012](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20307334)


	13. everything i love gets lost in drawers

Read the full length fic: [everything I love gets lost in drawers](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7649704)


	14. I love you so much that it hurts my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JainaMac asked: I second the request for how the feelings developed - an in between the first drunken hookup and the "let's do this" relationship fic.
> 
> reketrebn asked: I'm sorry but what the fuck noooo now I need to know how did it go from this one fuck to a relationship!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me love angst

It’s a treat to get the weekend off.

Chris takes the opportunity to go back to LA for a couple days, mostly because he’s got some house shit he has to get done there, and he could do with a night of being by himself.

He’s walking through arrivals at LAX when Seb calls him.

He doesn’t hesitate before answering.

“Hey man,” He greets, hoisting his bag higher on one shoulder. There’s a TMZ pap wandering in front of him taking pictures. “What’s up?”

Seb yawns and replies, “Not much, just got into Manhattan. How was your flight?”

“It was alright,” Chris sighs, following a businessman through the main doors and out onto the sidewalk outside. He’s gonna have to get an Uber. “I had two mimosas and now I have a headache.”

That makes Seb laugh.

“Well, that sucks,” Seb finally concedes. “I sat down and now I don’t wanna get back up. I got friends coming over for dinner.”

“Oooh friends,” Chris teases, grinning to himself as he stands at the edge of the sidewalk. There are some cabs idling, he could grab one of those, too. “Look at you, Mr. Popular.”

Seb laughs again, tired, and then groans.

“I should go,” He finally says, after a warm silence between the two of them, that has Chris standing there like a fool with a grin on his face. “I just wanted to make sure you got in alright.”

“Yeah,” Chris murmurs, closing his eyes, “I get it. See you Monday.”

~

As planned, Chris spends the entire two days on his couch.

He doesn’t get any of the house stuff taken care of. He orders out every meal because there’s no point buying groceries. He watches every movie he’s missed on Netflix and laughs while he’s eating, spilling noodles all down the front of his shirt.

In-between movies he supplements the NFL Network and E!, because it’s a well kept dirty secret and nobody else is here to see his shame.

He’s having a good weekend by himself right up until Maria Menounos says, “And speaking of Marvel stars, our cameras caught up with Chris Evans as he arrived back at LAX yesterday.”

So that wasn’t a TMZ guy, then, Chris realizes.

The segment isn’t bad, it’s just seven seconds of him walking through the airport, and then a handful of pictures of him standing outside talking on the phone. It’s all fine.

Until it’s embarrassing.

“Although we couldn’t confirm who Chris was talking to, it sure looks like he’s having a good conversation. Look at that blush!! Call me, Chris.”

Oh fuck, oh god. Chris wants to melt into the couch. He flips the TV back to Netflix, but the damage is done. He saw the pictures, he saw what he looked like.

He looked deliriously fucking happy, all flushed in the cheeks and bright-eyed.

 _Fuck_ , he thinks, sadly.

~

Their time in a friends with benefits relationship is rapidly coming to a close.

Chris can feel it approaching like a fucking storm. There have been too many incidences lately - the latest being the segment on E! news - for him to hide his hand much longer.

Maybe he’s just really bad at keeping his heart off his sleeve, but Seb seems to be handling this whole thing much better than he is. By the time they’re back on set Chris has wound himself up into a contained frenzy; as calm as he is on the outside, there is nothing to quiet the frustration in his head.

“You okay, man?” Mackie asks, as they wait for a light reset, “You’re all tense.”

Chris pulses a smile, stretches his arms out.

“I’m fine,” He lies.

~

Seb turns up at his hotel room that night.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t call,” He says, following Chris in.

Chris feels like a frayed wire. He smiles, but it’s so tight it feels stretched across his face, and closes the door. He’s still wearing Steve makeup and hair; the lines are getting all crossed in his brain and he feels himself starting to stagger under the resulting weight.

“Don’t worry about it,” He says, watching Seb quietly, fondly.

He’s fucking in love. It makes his stomach hurt. It’s the best feeling he’s ever had in his life. He’s terrified.

“Mackie said you were off your game today,” Seb teases, as he kicks off his shoes and starts peeling off his hoodie, “Lucky for you, I got a remedy for that.”

And god _damn_ him, Chris laughs. He lets out a shaky breath and runs his hand through his hair. He can’t wait to get rid of the blond.

“Let’s test it out, then,” He jokes, raising his eyebrows in the meantime.


	15. you're just jealous cause we're young and in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: Would you be interested in writing something from Chris' perspective abot how Seb changed over the years? Anyway, your fics are a blessing to this fandom, all the love to you <3](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/146391091370/anon-asked-would-you-be-interested-in-writing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this one kind of got away from me! If you were wanting something different, just send me another message - and thank you!!
> 
> FYI, [here’s what they looked like](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/53/1e/55/531e555a3196ac7d692df09622139e6a.jpg) at Comic Con that year.

_Comic Con 2013, San Diego_

Chris is lurking around the front desk at the hotel lobby when he hears Seb’s voice drift in behind him.

“...gonna go up to my room,” Seb is saying to whoever he’s walking with.

Without meaning to, Chris turns and looks over his shoulder. Seb’s making his way across the lobby with Scarlett beside him, a half empty Starbucks cup in one hand and her cellphone in the other.

She smirks at Chris when she catches him looking.

Things with Seb are... they’re complicated. Chris is grateful they’re in a place where they can work on things; in turn their relationship isn’t bad, it’s just - layered.

After not speaking to one another for a year, it’s a step in the right direction.

“Are they finally teaching you how to use the internet, grandpa?” Scarlett asks, as she sidles up to him and elbows his side a little.

Chris grins back at her. They’ve all been experiencing character bleed, in one form or another, for the last couple weeks. She takes a sip of her drink - _thirsty bitch_ , Scott’s voice says in Chris’s head - and gives him a knowing look.

“Yeah, my phone won’t connect to the hotel WiFi, I don’t know what’s going on...” Chris shrugs, glancing back over the front desk, to the doorway where the concierge disappeared with his phone a few minutes ago.

In retrospect that might have been a bad idea.

“Ahh,” Scarlett replies, glancing between the two of them. When Chris looks back and catches Seb’s gaze over her head, she smiles and says, “Alright! I’m outta here, boys. Got a date with the gym.”

Chris gives her a flat-mouthed ‘sure’ expression, but Seb just smiles and asks her, “You just love showing us up, huh?”

“You know it,” She grins back, bumping their shoulders together. “Bye.”

They’ve got some kind of weird Russian spy kid thing going on together, Chris doesn’t really know and he’s not about to start asking questions. As long as she doesn’t clue Seb into the night Chris got drunk and spilled the whole saga to her, he doesn’t care what they’re doing together.

Scarlett got the full teary version, too: the fucking, the feelings. The night Seb shut him out for a year.

“She’s worse than my sister,” Chris sighs, smiling as the front desk attendant comes back with his phone in one hand.

The concierge smiles at Seb, and hands the phone over to Chris.

“It should be working now - and sorry for the inconvenience,” She says, looking appropriately apologetic that he couldn’t get onto Netflix earlier. “Seems like the wrong password got stuck in your settings somehow.”

“As long as it works now, you’re my favorite person in the world,” Chris grins, accepting the phone back.

She blushes and waves him off, and then wanders down the counter to help another waiting guest.

When they’re out of earshot, Chris takes a step closer to Seb, and asks, “You wanna come up?”

“Yeah,” Seb nods immediately, tucking his hair back behind one ear.

They wander to the elevator bank side by side, Chris dinking around with the WiFi settings on his phone the entire time.

~

This thing with Seb has been... complicated.

When they first started up the workplace fuck buddies thing, they’d been pretty clear about their arrangement: as long as things didn’t get weird, they could continue.

But then things got weird.

Feelings became involved, and instead of fucking they were suddenly having passionate, emotionally fulfilling sex. They went from meeting up once a week to fucking every night and sneaking one last kiss through the crack in the hotel room door.

And, when filming ended, the bubble popped. The real world was right there, waiting.

Chris saw the change happen in Seb the way he felt it in himself: the struggle to keep everything on the level, to not touch Chris in passing, to keep his hands to himself unless they were closed away in a hotel room.

He was doing the same thing.

Everything started going south at a benefit for the performing arts they both attended before the first press tour. Chris looks back, and can identify that as the night Seb started looking at him differently.

They got through that press tour, but by the end of the year they were no longer speaking - multi movie picture deals, or not.

After the first movie, they were in a world that didn’t include them together. No universe existed where it would have been possible to continue fucking on the reg, with the two of them between three cities at any given time. They hadn’t even known if Seb was coming back for the second movie.

2012 was a rough year in more ways than one.

But they worked on it. They took their time. They became friends again.

And despite what they meant to happen, they were back in bed and having regular sex by the time principal photography for the second movie rolled around.

Seb just... ruined him for any other person.

Chris still can’t find it in himself to be mad about that.

“I’m exhausted,” Seb sighs in the elevator, hands tucked in his jean pockets as they wait shoulder to shoulder for Chris’s floor to arrive.

With a soft agreeable noise, Chris leans forward and jabs the ‘close door’ button when they slide open to an empty floor. There are probably cameras in here, so he doesn’t touch Seb, but boy does he want to.  
“One month left,” He smiles, taking a step closer so he can bump their shoulders together.

Seb smiles but he’s all soft around the eyes, tired and exhausted after filming until 2AM and then boarding a red eye to San Diego. They had a rough one last night, too: first sequence for a rooftop fight scene. Chris has already got bruises starting up his ankle from where he accidentally caught himself on some metal sliding.

Just a clumsy, stupid mistake.

They’re in Chris’s room a few minutes later. Seb shrugs out of his jacket carefully, thoughtfully, pressing his hair back behind his ears as he frowns and folds it over the back of a chair.

Chris can’t wait any longer. He touches Seb’s back and steps in close, pressing his mouth to the nape of Seb’s neck. He closes his eyes and noses into Seb’s hair.

He’ll miss Seb in the morning, but he’ll keep that to himself tonight.

Seb makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, relaxing back into Chris’s body, and then turns around. One of his hands goes to the side of Chris’s neck, and the other rests on Chris’s hip as they stand quietly, half hugging.

It scares Chris that what used to be mindless fucking has evolved into this. If he could, he’d keep Seb around forever, just like this.

Chris is crazy for him.

“You wanna order some food?” Chris asks, nosing at the side of Seb’s nose, ducking down to press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I’ll get room service.”

Seb exhales and says, “God yeah,” as Chris thumbs Seb’s hair back behind his ear, and angles his face so Chris can press kisses along the line of his jaw.

He’s been treating Seb differently since they got back together after that year apart, and they both know it. Chris hasn’t been able to talk about it yet.

Maybe one day they’ll get there.

~

Ordering food doesn’t take very long.

They’re both eating the same thing lately, lots of protein and greens to keep their energy up, so Chris gets two plates of coconut chicken fingers and some side orders of kale.

While they wait for the food they stand quietly, moving slow. Chris knows he stops to kiss Seb more than he usually does, holding him by the jaw and angling his head how he likes.

Seb lets his hands slide down Chris’s stomach to his jeans, leaves his fingers curled in the waistband there while they kiss.

There’s a knock on the door before they get around to anything intense.  
Without saying anything, Seb heads towards the bathroom, leaves Chris to grab their food and tip the attendant.

As Chris is setting their food out on the bedside table - the studio didn’t spring for a suite, so they’re stuck with limited eating surfaces - Seb wanders back out of the bathroom in just his jeans.

“I’m just going to split everything in half,” Chris explains, as Seb drops onto the bed, stretching out on his side.

Chris doesn’t like to think about the fact they have sides.

“That’s perfect,” Seb says, accepting the plate Chris hands him.

It’s nice. For all intents and purposes, it’s a great way to spend the night. It’s relaxing and quiet and exactly what both of them need before heading back to set tomorrow.

Chris can’t figure out why it leaves such a twisted feeling in his gut.


	16. three cheers for my morose and grieving pals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: I assume at the beginning (the New Beginning, after TWS) one or both of them still slept/had dates/flirted with other people? Can we get something about that, and him/them feeling “meh” about it afterwards because it’s just Not The Same Anymore, and no matter how cool the other person was, s/he wasn’t Seb/Chris and he/they realize they just don’t care about being with someone else anymore? – anon who can’t stop with the signatures

“I owe you for this, man,” Mike says, after three days of convincing.

Walking through Logan, Chris hoists his bag a little higher on his shoulder, and reiterates, “One date.”

“Just one date,” Mike promises, sounding like he means it.

~

It’s a work friend of Mike’s, which is just about as awkward as you’d expect.

“Hey,” Chris greets, a little breathless from the jog between car and restaurant. He unzips his jacket and tries to get himself out of it as he adds, “Sorry I’m late. Traffic, you know?”

At the table, Mike looks over at his work friend and says, “So, this is Chris. Chris, Chris.”

“Chris?” Chris asks, confused. He pauses hanging his jacket over the empty chair.

Sitting between Mike and Christine, Chris’s date says, “I am… also Chris. Hi.”

Christine doesn’t cover her face with both hands, but it’s close.

“Alright,” Chris finally breathes, taking a seat in the chair. “What are we drinking?”

~

It’s… fine, as far as blind double dates go. It could have been worse. Chris is actually pretty funny, and he’s got the whole tall, dark and handsome thing going on.

But, aside from the difficulties of dating someone with the same name as you, he just isn’t Chris’s type.

And Chris is, shockingly enough, pretty comfortable with that realization.

That night, once he gets home, he flops onto the couch with East, and, a little drunkenly - you gotta do something to persevere through a weird event - goes through the texts and emails he got while he was out.

There is approximately 24 hours in-between now and when the entire cast will meet up again in Cleveland, but Seb has texted him anyways.

Chris, big and dumb and a little smitten, smiles when he reads Seb’s message:

_This reminded me of you._

Followed directly by a picture of a dog wearing a hat backwards.

Laughing, Chris replies, _You are not wrong!!_ , and adds a follow-up _hahaha_ just in case.


	17. monster mash - 2013

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2013](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19115008)


	18. lying like lions out in the sand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Here’s a Fork and Knife prompt: Chris was in New York shooting Before We Go for a long time. What did they get up to/

_November 2013_

“So how’d your thing go?” Seb asks, propping his butt on the arm of the couch.

Hunched over the coffee table, Chris looks up, confused for a second, and then raises his eyebrows and answers, “It was good! Took some pictures.”

He’s been in Manhattan for the last couple days, scouting locations for an upcoming project. It’s been kinda nice, not staying at hotels, getting to see Seb after work every night. Last night he stopped at a deli and brought dinner back.

“Fancy director guy,” Seb smirks, jabbing at Chris’s thigh with his bare foot. “Show me one.”

Chris rolls his eyes a little - all he took is a bunch of pictures of buildings he knows Seb has seen a thousand times - but he does reach for his phone. He flips through to the pictures he took of Grand Central and Park Avenue, and settles back as Seb slides down and leans into his arm.

“This one made me think of you,” Chris laughs, showing Seb the picture he sneakily took in a little Asian bodega before the owner yelled at him. It’s some weird cartoon frog with a curly mouth, and an elaborate speech bubble warning in bright red Chinese.

Seb gives him an unimpressed look that makes Chris laugh even more.

“When you translate that, it says ‘Chris Evans, suck my dick’,” Seb explains, cracking up when Chris suddenly leans forward, and lets Seb fall into the space between his back and the couch.

Looking back over one shoulder, Chris arches his eyebrow and says, “Oh it does, huh?”

“Pretty sure,” Seb smiles, really putting it on as he grins up at Chris. He’s still wedged, but he doesn’t look that mad about it. Chris leans back again, pretending like he’s going to crush him, and Seb laughs and exclaims, “Ahh!”

Laughing, Chris finally reaches an arm back and digs Seb out of there. As he flops them over, so he’s on top with his knees on either side of Seb’s hips, he says, thoughtfully, “Chris Evans does like to suck dick.”

Seb cracks up as Chris drops on top of him, one hand going down to his fly.


	19. a very merry christmas - 2013

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2013](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20480968)


	20. our salad days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: hello! have you ever written about the ws screening in nyc and if you haven’t can you? and maybe focus more on what they did after the event. It would be really awesome if you did :D

_March 2014_

“Oh my god, Seb, whose are theeeese??” Chris cackles, a little drunk.

Spread out across the bed, still in his suit, Seb laughs and pushes himself back up to his elbows, trying not to spill his own beer in the process. Chris is half out of his shirt and distracted by a pile of clothes sitting next to Seb’s closet.

“Those are mine!” Seb’s voice breaks with laughter over every word. “What!”

Really tickled now, Chris picks up the pair of pants he’s talking about, and holds them up to his own waist.

“These are laaaadies pants,” he teases, hanging onto his beer bottle with one hooked finger.

Seb covers his face with one hand, still laughing but now a little red, and flops back into his pillows. He figured they’d come back to his place, have a few more drinks, get up to a little bit of this and that, and end the night right.

He didn’t expect to get read in his own home.

“Those don’t even fit me anymore!” It’s true, too. If they did he probably wouldn’t have stuck them in his donate pile: he kinda still does like those studded pockets.

Chris, still cackling, makes his way over to the bed, and says, “I wanna see.”

Which is how Seb, at 31 years old, ends up trying to squeeze into the black denim he bought when he still worked at H&M.

“They’re maxed out,” he says, a little out of breath, when they will go no further up over his thighs. A little vindicated, he looks at Chris, holds one hand out to receive his beer back, and confirms, “Told you.”

Chris hands Seb back his drink, and then eyes him up a little bit.

“Wanna fuck me with the pants on?” Seb asks, joking.

Looking thoughtful, Chris feels his packed thighs up a little bit, and then replies, “It’s not a no.”

“Perfect.”

Seb laughs, and pushes Chris back against the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The pants](https://thenavynumber.tumblr.com/post/156533142434/wow-these-jeans-look-great-but-they-look)!


	21. let's all go play Nagasaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Fork and knife prompt! Seb passes out because he’s forgotten to eat or something and Chris just panics and is almost no help at all because he’s adorable like that xx

_March 2014_

“You are druuuunk,” Chris cackles, one hand shooting out as they both almost fall into the hotel hallway wall. “And heavy!”

Seb hiccups and tightens his arm around Chris’s neck. He explains, “Big bones,” and then tries to hold his breath so he doesn’t hiccup again. In the end all he does is crack himself up and then roll his face into the crook of Chris’s neck.

It takes a minute to get them into Chris’s hotel room. He’s drunk, too, and spends as much time trying to keep Seb’s hands out of his pants as he does trying to get the stupid keycard to work.

By the time they break through to the hotel room entryway, Chris is pretty boned up and Seb has two handfuls of butt.

They stumble through the room kissing, haphazardly struggling out of their suits. They’re drunk enough to be sloppy about it, Seb yanking Chris’s shirt out of his pants like magician’s scarves, and Chris holding Seb’s face with both hands so he can really get in there.

“I gotta get a-“ Chris gets cut off as Seb makes a clumsy grab for him again and presses their mouths together. “Mm. Condom. Gimme a- second.”

A minute later, Chris is in the hotel bathroom digging through his toiletries bag. He gets a condom and the lube, and then drunkenly looks at himself in the mirror, which is very big and fancy and lit with round lightbulbs. He fixes his hair.

“Seb,” he calls, ripping the condom open with his teeth as he leaves the bathroom.

There’s no response.

He gets all the way to the foot of the bed before he realizes Seb is fully passed out. He tosses the condom onto the foot of the bed, and wiggles Seb by the bare ankle.

“Hey,” he calls. “We should get you out of your pants.”

There’s no response. Not even a grumble or a face twitch. Chris doesn’t like that.

“Seb,” he tries again, coming around to pat Seb on the bare chest. “Hey.”

This is totally fine. Tons of his buddies have drank so much they passed out right where they were laying before. Just like this. Chris has done it a bunch of times himself. It doesn’t mean anything bad.

But Chris doesn’t like it when it’s Seb.

“SEB.” He goes a little louder. Seb’s eyelids don’t even flicker. Chris frowns and rests his hand on Seb’s pec just to make it very clear to himself he’s still breathing.

In the end, Chris freaks out by himself for another ten minutes, vaguely debates calling someone for help, and wonders what the chances of Seb choking would be if he dripped some water in his mouth.

Chris ends up rolling him onto his side and then getting snugged up good and tight against his back, face pressed against his shoulder blade so he can feel it when Seb moves.

“Night,” Chris murmurs to the hotel room, empty other than the two of them on the bed.

Seb inhales and cuts into a snore.


	22. monster mash - 2014

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2014](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19154047)


	23. monster mash - 2014 pt. 2

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2014, pt. 2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19184212)


	24. a very merry christmas - 2014

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2014](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20581268)


	25. a very merry christmas - 2014, pt. 2

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2014, pt.2 ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20617510)


	26. i am glad you found a good man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Okay this ask is totally dirty and I apologize (but not really) because I couldn’t stop thinking about it Seb decides Chris deserves a reward for something (you decide) and bc Chris IS an ass man, Seb surprises him with some reverse cowboy sex. Chris just about loses his mind and Seb is smug for like a week.
> 
> PS: This takes place during Ultron reshoots!

_January 2015_

Chris is not feeling jazzy to be back at work for two weeks of reshoots, but it could be worse.

It could be way - way - worse.

“Ah - jesus - fuck,” he pants, halfway to an exorcism as his eyes roll back in his head, and his hands jerk out to grab onto Seb’s ass.

On top, Seb laughs breathlessly, and balances himself with a hand on each of Chris’s thighs, hips rolling as he works himself up and down on Chris’s dick. Chris thought - well, he doesn’t know what he thought, exactly, it’s entirely possible he’ll never be able to think right again.

He just, he wasn’t sure how Seb visiting him on set would go. But this is… this is…

“Fuck, babe,” he manages, pushing himself up onto one elbow.

It’s been five days since they saw each other last, but really that’s too long. That’s too long, even though Chris is in the UK for another… another…

“Chris,” Seb breathes, groaning when Chris pulls him down hard, and then works his hips up, ass lifting off the bed as he bangs up into Seb. “Oh god, oh fuck, Chris.”

Chris squeezes his eyes closed and presses his forehead against Seb’s shoulder blade. When he realizes he’s missing watching Seb’s ass bounce on top of him, he flops backwards again, both hands going back to Seb’s sides.

It doesn’t take long to finish. Chris is tired, but he’s not that tired.

Afterwards, Seb does the honors of crawling off the hotel bed, and chucking the condom into the little useless garbage basket under the bathroom sink.

“You’re sweaty,” Seb laughs, climbing back on top of Chris as Chris automatically pulls him back in.

Chris rolls them both over, until he’s on top, grinning down at Seb’s stupid face.

“What is it?” Seb smiles, resting his hand on Chris’s shoulder. He raises his eyebrows and asks, “Do I have something on my face?”

Laughing, Chris shakes his head.

“I just missed you,” he says honestly, leaning down for a kiss.


	27. gave up my body and bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: I love, love, love your "Fork and Knife" series. I've really been wanting to read about Chris loving Seb's new, thicc Bucky body (especially bc he IS an ass man lol) while Seb sort of hates it. He's never seemed too happy about the 200 lbs of muscle he became. Maybe he loves being the smaller one during sex idk. But I'd love to read Chris reassuring him that he still fucking loves his body through, you know, a lot of awesome sex or something :D](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145593392545/anon-asked-i-love-love-love-your-fork-and)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love me some thick Bucky body

_April 2015_

Chris is standing with a grin on his face watching Seb’s coverage on the monitor.

“Dude is a fucking beast,” One of the sound guys says, shaking his head. He peers around the camera and watches as Seb jogs across the stage again, going back to his original mark to reset.

With a laugh, Seb claps his hands and then turns to talk to Mackie.

“Pretty sure he could take me down,” Chris agrees, smiling.

“That guy could take _Lou Ferrigno_ down,” The sound guy laughs, shaking his head as he goes back to looping about twenty feet of audio cord around his forearm and hand.

Chris means to stop watching. He does.

But he stands there for another ten minutes, anyway.

~

They've been doing this dating thing for a couple months now.

Chris kinda loves it. It’s a great way to blow off steam, it’s easy, and so far, neither of them have made it weird. There’s a certain efficiency that comes to fucking - and loving - the people you work with.

At this point in their relationship, the only thing Chris is looking out for is too much character bleed.

That afternoon, Seb’s at catering around the same time Chris gets there. They’re both half in wardrobe, half in street clothes - it’s a bitch to get behind schedule, but here they all are as a team, waiting to see if reshoots will be necessary tonight.

“They got that pork belly stuff you like,” Seb says, as Chris comes up to stand at his shoulder. With an ‘oooh’ noise, Chris immediately reaches for a spoon and dumps a portion onto his plate.

Chris follows along behind Seb, grabbing some steamed veggies and a chicken breast. With one last scan over the table’s contents, and right as a group of PAs come in, Chris nudges Seb towards a table with his elbow.

“I can’t eat anymore,” Seb grumbles, dumping his plate on the table before he drops down into a seat, “This is my fifth meal today and it’s still light outside.”

Laughing, Chris sets his food down, and takes the seat opposite Seb.

“It’s not for much longer, man,” He smiles, watching as Seb tries to push his Bucky hair off his face without totally destroying the hairstylist’s work, “You’re doing great.”

Seb levels a look at him that says ‘shut the fuck up with the niceties.’

“You wanna hang out later?” Seb asks, changing the topic.

There’s no hesitation; Chris nods.

“I’ll bring you a snack,” He cackles, dodging the napkin Seb throws at him.

~

“Oh my god,” Seb is breathing, forearms braced against the top of the headboard. He makes a low noise in his throat, and grinds himself down on Chris’s mouth.

Below him, stretched out across the mattress, Chris closes his eyes and holds the backs of Seb’s thighs, trying to give himself more room.

It’s definitely crowded down here. Chris has got his head on the pillows and Seb sitting on his face, which doesn’t offer up a whole lot of room. That being said, if Chris is allowed to pick the way he eventually dies, he chooses being smothered by Sebastian’s thighs.

Chris makes a noise and arches up, nose sliding against Seb’s balls as he strains, trying to get a better angle at Seb’s ass. Seb’s not the lightest person Chris has ever asked to ride his face, but that kinda makes it better.

He likes that Seb could probably just hold him down against the pillows if he really wanted to. Chris is totally at his mercy.

“I’m - oh my god,” Seb pants. Chris grins when he feels him jerk, and sticks his tongue out, “I’m suffocating you!”

Chris tries to shake his head, but the motion doesn’t really translate. He groans when Seb shifts, trying to get back to his feet.

“No no no, you aren’t,” Chris babbles, reaching for Seb’s hips as Seb pushes himself up onto his knees, “You really aren’t.”

They’re both rock fucking hard. Seb holds onto himself as he settles back down in Chris’s lap, still breathing heavy.

“You’re red,” Seb manages, and then distracts Chris by sucking down the line of his shoulder. When he gets to the tattoo on Chris’s delt, he bites.

“I’m _happy_ ,” Chris argues, groaning a little. He brings one hand up to wipe the spit off his face, and tries to buck Seb off by jerking his hips up, “C’mon, you liked it too.”

Seb’s made himself busy sucking across Chris’s chest, pausing to bite and lick at Chris’s pec because - honestly. He’s only human.

“Yeah I liked it,” Seb murmurs, flicking his gaze up to look at Chris’s face. Chris feels himself groan without really meaning to, god, he loves eye contact. “I like this too.”

Well, Chris can’t really argue with that kind of logic. He files the face sitting away for later, though.

One day he’s gonna get what he wants.


	28. friends among fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Chris trying to learn a few words of Romanian, as you seemingly always end up doing when you’re in a relationship with someone who’s native tongue is not your own? Being cutely serious about it for, like, a full afternoon; or Seb just not caring at all but just generally being charmed by that giant doofus he ended up with?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Here is the scary cartoon](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rpa2aXiptyQ)!

Chris flips open the pizza box and rubs his hands together.

“What’s happening now?” he asks, flopping two slices onto a plate, and handing it over to Seb.

So far tonight they’ve YouTubed old Muppets clips, compilations of kids falling, a couple of suspect 80s kids cartoons, and, on Chris’s request, exactly two episodes of the original Care Bears.

Seb accepts the pizza with one hand, and tries to point the remote at the next letter he wants on the TV screen.

“This animal show I liked…” he starts, before trailing off as a bunch of suggestions pop up on the screen. Chris squints at YouTube’s recommendations, and then goes back to sliding his pizza from box to plate.

Settling back into the cushions, Chris kicks the box lid closed with his foot and digs in.

“That’s you,” he cackles, pizza half falling out of his mouth when a bear snoring in a deck chair comes on screen.

Seb laughs and kicks him a little.

The cartoon goes from kinda normal to exceptionally creepy in the time it takes Chris to eat one slice of pizza. When the sad monkey meets a scary fox, Chris can’t hold it together anymore.

“Seb! What is he saying?” he asks, scandalized. “What does that say?”

Cracking up, Seb leans forward for some more pizza.

“The fox wants his money,” Seb shrugs, kicking back with his legs over Chris’s lap. He re-jams a pillow behind his head, and rests his plate on his belly. “What’s with the face?”

Chris looks away from the TV.

“Babe, this is scary,” he says. “I don’t like that monkey.”

Laughing some more, Seb nods to a gigantic butch dog on the TV and says, “He was my favorite.”

“That makes sense,” Chris starts, but can’t get very far before Seb jams his toes into Chris’s side and makes him crack up. Trying to snag Seb’s foot with his hand without sacrificing his pizza, Chris laughs some more and repeats, “That makes a lot of sense, Seb!”

They do end up watching the whole 40 minutes, which Chris isn’t jazzy about. By the end he’s snugged up to Seb good, head against Seb’s boob with his feet kicked over the far arm of the couch.

“That was fun,” Chris says when it’s over.

The next video starts autoplaying, which is some Communism for kids cartoon from the 80s. Man, Chris’s recommended videos are going to be full of weird Romanian shit for weeks.

Seb sneaks his hand up the back of Chris’s t-shirt and tries to kick the pizza box - and its one remaining slice - closer.


	29. when we were kids you were the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: oh boy oh boy oh boy :’) hmm I’d like to put in requests for 4. ‘Doll’, Bless you, Sidni!

“You look like a fat lesbian,” Scott greets, giving Seb half a hug.

Laughing, Seb steps aside, and lets Scott into the apartment.

“Don’t let Chris hear you say that,” he jokes, switching his hot pocket from one hand to the other as he follows Scott down the hallway. “You want a drink?”

Scott is in town for approximately two and a half days doing weird work shit, which gives he and Seb just enough time to meet up and plan some kind of sneaky something for Chris’s birthday.

“Water would be grand,” Scott sighs, flopping backwards onto Seb’s couch. “Is this rug new?”

In the kitchen, Seb snags two bottles of water, the other hot pocket he microwaved, and his phone.

“Kind of,” Seb says, passing Scott a water and then dropping into the arm chair across from him. He looks up from his hot pocket and explains, “I had it in storage.”

Scott makes a ‘nice, I approve’ face, and reaches for his laptop.

They’re twenty minutes into trying to figure out where to order catering from when the man himself calls.

“Hi,” Seb grins, before he pulls his phone away from his ear to switch it to Facetime.

On the screen, Chris replies, “Hi doll,” before he clocks his brother in the background and adds, “Whaaat. Why is that happening?”

“Secrets and deceit!” Scott helpfully supplies, yelling a little to make sure Chris hears him.


	30. lying like lions out in the sands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obviously based on [this](http://thenavynumber.tumblr.com/post/149472860139).

It’s a quiet one on set today: just the two of them, the usual crew, and the underwater team.

After sitting through Another Safety Briefing, Chris follows Seb up the little ladder, and then down into the pool.

“It just like swimming at the lake!” Dale - their stunt coordinator - shouts from the side of the pool. “Fun!”

Chris laughs and watches as Seb gets in first. He immediately sinks down to his shoulders and then looks back at Chris, giving him a secret grimace before swimming away.

All those muscles packed into three layers of wet fabric. Jesus.

As Chris begins his descent down the ladder, he realizes it’s actually not as bad as he was originally anticipating. The water mostly just feels like a lukewarm bath - neither warm nor cold.

“The jeans don’t feel great,” He announces to nobody in particular. Sound isn’t running today - everything will be added in post - so Chris isn’t sure who’s actually listening to him.

As he swims along after Seb, Seb grins and turns himself partially around, half swimming and half floating backwards.

He laughs at Chris and teases, “Try wearing your whole wardrobe at once!”

Grinning, Chris spits pool water out of his mouth, and replies, “Whatever, this is the first time since I met you that I can’t see your nipples through your t-shirt.”

Halfway through his sentence, Chris accidentally dunks himself a little. As he comes up spitting water out of his mouth, Seb laughs and splashes more water at him.

“Keep your faces out of the water!” Their makeup artist yells from the side of the pool.

~

“Hey, can you lift him?” Anthony asks from the edge of the pool, shading his eyes with one hand from the bright lights hung overhead.

Chris snorts and automatically replies, “Yeah.”

Can he lift Seb, please. Extra beef or not, he’s fucked the guy up against every flat surface found in the average home or hotel room. The buoyancy of the water will only make it easier.

Before he can say anything out loud and dig himself into an instant watery hole, Seb wraps one arm around Chris’s shoulders, and bounces himself up out of the water with a kick. Chris automatically brings his arms up, and catches Seb’s legs.

They end up sinking a little - Chris down to his chin - as Seb cackles and says, “My hero.”

“Alright,” Anthony says, looking them over. His face says _it’s already a little too gay but you’re already in his arms._ “We’ll try one shot. Can you hold that position, Chris?”

Chris adjusts his grip - one arm under Seb’s knees, the other at the small of his back - and nods, “Yeah.”

Keeping them both afloat is actually a little harder than he thought it would be, but it’s manageable. This is nothing they haven’t already done while fucking around in the pool, the only difference here is Seb’s dead weight.

“Alright, reset!” Anthony yells, walking back to the director chair.

Chris waits for action, and then takes a deep breath. When he feels Seb inhale, too, he drops his weight and they both sink under the water.

Below the surface, he feels Seb’s hair drifting into his face. He opens his eyes for a second, blinking against the initial sting of the water, just to make sure they’re on their mark.

He isn’t expecting it, but the blurry visual of Seb looking knocked out against his chest totally freaks him out. All the other times they’ve done this, Seb has been facing outward. It makes Chris’s animal gut kick in fear.

Shaking it off - now is not the time to have A Moment - Chris drops their weight against the underwater platform, and then bounces up, so they break the surface dramatically.

Chris takes a deep breath, and tries to blink his eyes open.

“Cut!” Anthony shouts, before adding, “ _Seb!_ You’re _smiling!”_

Seb immediately starts laughing when Anthony calls him out, and brings a hand up to wipe the water out of his face as Chris lets him go.

“Sorry,” He calls back automatically, even though he doesn’t really sound that sorry about it.

Chris rubs his face even though Claudia, the makeup girl, will yell at him, and grimaces, “Water up my nose.”

~

As the day wears on, Chris starts to get fidgety.

Stunt days are just the worst - they’re just all hurry up and wait - so he can hardly be blamed for his wandering hands.

It starts when Seb has a piece of hair stuck straight across his forehead. Chris, a considerate co-worker, reaches out, and unsticks it. Then he sets it back into the rest of Seb’s hair. Then he brushes his fingers through it a little, because it doesn’t settle in right at first.

“You’re gonna get yelled at,” Seb tells him, grinning.

Chris makes a stupid face and opens his mouth to show his tongue.

The reset is quick this time - it’s only a few minutes later they’re doing another take. They’ve gone back to what the script calls for, and seriously, Chris is going to have to send the writers a very nice gift basket for all the boob grabs he’s getting to partake in.

They’re waiting for an action. Chris adjusts their positions a little, not even really thinking about it, and rests one of his hands against Seb’s side under the water.

“Chris!” Anthony yells this time. “Hands!”

That makes Seb break a little - Chris feels the jolt in his back as he snorts, and sees the curve of his cheek as he bites back a smile. Chris makes an innocent face and raises his arm up, showing his hand to the camera.

Underneath the water, Seb’s hand drifts over, until his pinky finger brushes against the front of Chris’s fly.

“Action!” Anthony calls, and Chris has about one second to remember what that means, before he plugs his nose and they dunk again.

~

They’re floating at the edge of the pool for another reset.

“Are your fingers pruny yet?” Claudia asks, wrinkling up her nose.

Seb laughs, and treads water as he watches her wipe the excess water off of Chris’s face, and fix his waterlogged eyelashes.

She finishes up and heads back to the line of chairs along one wall. It’s actually strange, being the only two on set - aside from the quinjet scenes, they usually have at least one other actor floating around.

Stuntwork aside, it does make for a much shorter day.

“I’m thinking about a shower, and food, and bed,” Chris lists off, tilting his head back so he doesn’t instantly ruin Claudia’s paint job. He stares up at the ceiling, where the lighting crew is rigging in the metal rafters.

Seb makes a low noise of appreciation - as usual, it goes right to Chris’s dick - and adds, “I’m gonna eat a hamburger.”

“Wow, scandalous,” Chris grins, sneakily copping a feel under the water. 

Smiling back, Seb adds, “Then I might fall asleep on the couch.”

“Oh, you’re gonna have to fight me for that,” Chris replies, unable to keep the dumb smile off his face. He tugs Seb’s shirt a little underwater, but lets go before they drift too close.

The _‘by fight I meant fuck’_ goes unsaid.

Laughing, Seb pushes Chris away by the shoulder, but doesn’t break eye contact. Chris feels physically unable to look away.

“Hey, we’re ready to go!” A lighting guy calls down from the rafters.

From the corner of the set, Anthony calls, “Quiet on set!”

Chris positions himself over their mark as best he can, holding onto Seb’s back so he doesn’t accidentally float away.


	31. i am on the mend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: how about sleepy bear during filming??

Grimacing, Chris flips the water off, and slides the glass shower door open.

His shoulder hurts a little more than he anticipated it would after tweaking it this afternoon. It’s a nice painful reminder that, for every movie they shoot, he’s another year older.

The heat of the shower helped a little, but not as much as a friendly muscle relaxant would have.

Frowning, Chris snags his towel from the hook, and steps out of the bathroom.

“Babe, I really think I fucked up my shoulder with that thing earlier today,” he says, trying to get the towel around his hips without moving his bad arm too much.

In bed, Seb is watching German news and looking at something on his phone.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, one arm coming up to pillow his head as he leans back against the wall.

Chris makes a face, and rubs at his boob as he walks over to the bed.

“It hurts,” he frowns, resting one knee on his side of the mattress.

Frowning back, Seb stretches one arm out, and waits for Chris to climb into bed. Chris does, and then rolls over until his face is practically in Seb’s armpit.

“I can call downstairs and get some ice,” Seb offers, arm resting around Chris’s back.

Chris shakes his head, and angles himself against Seb’s chest so he can see the TV.

“I’ll get a heat pack tomorrow,” he says.

He really probably should have accepted the offer for one today, but it didn’t feel like anything until he was in the car driving away from set.

“Snack pack,” Seb yawns, awkwardly half turning around to drop his phone onto the bedside table.

Chris yawns too, mostly because he caught it from Seb, and then watches the news drowsily for a minute. Work was rough today - shoulder aside, it was stunt after stunt after stunt.

After a minute of sleepy news watching, Chris rouses himself and asks, “What could I do to get a back rub out of you right now?”

Seb laughs a little, but then hmmms and answers, “You could get me a chocolate bar.”

“I’ll buy you one tomorrow and give you a nice handy right now,” Chris counters, raising his eyebrows.

After a moment of consideration, Seb nods and says, “Flip over.”

Proud of himself, Chris rolls over onto his stomach, and rests his cheek on his hand. He watches Seb as he climbs up onto his knees and then swings one leg over the backs of Chris’s thighs.

“You’re still kinda wet,” Seb reviews, both hands on Chris’s lower back.

Squeezing his eyes closed, Chris lets out a sharp breath when Seb instantly finds a knot and lays his weight into it. He backs off after a second, fingers laying against the sides of Chris’s hips as he digs into the tight muscles above Chris’s ass.

It takes Seb less than a minute to lose the towel.

“It’s my shoulder, babe,” Chris muffles into his hand.

From behind him, Seb dips down a little further, and says, “I’m getting there.”


	32. sleepy bear in berlin

Read the full length fic here: [sleepy bear](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7793812)


	33. sleepy in salt lake city

Read the full length fic here: [sleepy in salt lake city](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7793812/chapters/19891330)


	34. take what you love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Hi, love your F&K series! How about their first time bareback for the anniversary prompts? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

_Early October 2015_

They've been talking about it for a while, and now, here they are, at the end of their last box of condoms. 

“Empty,” Chris confirms, shaking the little box upside down.

Sprawled out across the bed, Seb arches an eyebrow and grins, “What are you waiting for?”

“I see how it is,” Chris teases. He climbs back on top of Seb, one knee on either side of his thighs. Raising his eyebrows, he jokes, “Get ready for the fastest fuck of your life. There’s no way I’m gonna be able to hold out.”

Cracking up, Seb tugs Chris close with a hand on the nape of his neck, and groans as Chris gets right to it, and kisses back.

One kiss turns into two, and then they’re grinding together, hips working.

“I’m going in,” Chris announces, laughing when Seb grimaces up at him.

“I changed my mind,” Seb groans. “Get a condom. Double up.”

Chris laughs some more, tickled at Seb’s salty reaction, and settles back to hook an arm under each of Seb’s knees. He lifts Seb’s hips up, and practically bends him in half as he tugs Seb’s ass closer to his dick, and simultaneously leans forward for a kiss.

“Good?” Chris asks quietly, smacking a kiss to Seb’s beardy chin.

Nodding, Seb props himself up with his elbows, and arches his pelvis, laughing when Chris swears and runs both hands over the cut of Seb’s hips.

“Baby,” Chris continues quietly, hands smoothing over the rounds of Seb’s thighs, and then down to his own dick. He holds onto himself, rubbing the head of his dick against Seb’s skin, and starts to press inside. Half a second later, he blurts, “Fuck.”

“God, yeah,” Seb groans, rolling his hips already. “C’mon and fuck me.”

“I’m gonna,” Chris pants, losing his mind as he presses the rest of his dick in.

It’s, it’s - it’s different without a condom, jesus, it does feel different, Chris is so hot in the chest a stroke might be right around the corner. He can’t help the noises he makes as he bottoms out.

“Chris,” Seb manages, resting both hands on Chris’s waist. He drops his head back against the pillows and closes his eyes happily. “God, that feels good.”

Good is an understatement but Chris will take it. He starts out slow, mostly so he doesn’t give in and come everywhere, and then settles back on his heels, holding Seb’s legs open by his thighs so he can really get to it. 

As he sinks into a steady rhythm, he drops his head back, mindless with how good it feels.

Things get out of hand real quick. What starts out as a nice and steady bone turns into Seb getting fucked up the mattress. Chris ends up bent over Seb, one hand cradling the back of his head as Chris snaps his hips quick.

Seb makes a surprised noise and stops jerking off, but it’s too late. He comes with one hand braced on Chris’s shoulder, and the other wrapped around his own dick.

“Jesus,” Chris swears, curling forward again. 

He leans down to snag a kiss as Seb flops back, sweaty with his hair all stuck up. Chris eases off a little, going slow but deep, and nuzzles all along Seb’s jaw stubble, kissing at Seb’s ear when his mouth bumps against it.

Still breathing hard, Seb groans and thumbs at Chris’s nipples, a little too overstimulated to do much more.

“Come on,” Seb pants, squeezing Chris’s pec. “Fuck me good.”

Don’t have to tell Chris twice. He settles back on his heels again and gets to it, banging Seb good and slow. 

His dick gets a little harder when he realizes how different this angle looks with no condom on, and that’s about it - he doesn’t last much longer, he comes hard. Seb holds onto the backs of Chris’s thighs as Chris rolls his hips sharp, trying to fuck the last of his orgasm out.

“Oh god,” Chris manages, flopping forward. The feeling of come everywhere without a condom is… different.

It’s not the first time Chris has fucked someone without a condom - he too was once 18 and fucking dumb as bricks - but it’s the first time its mattered.

Seb groans and lets his feet drop back to the bed from the small of Chris’s back.

“You sure you wanna leave for a month?” Seb asks, still a little dazed, as Chris laughs and presses his face into the side of Seb’s neck.


	35. monster mash - 2015

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2015](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19250200)


	36. a very merry christmas - 2015

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2015](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20424358)


	37. what they call love is a risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon also asked: I love your evanstan writing!! Could you do the first time they say I love you to each other?
> 
> anon also-also asked: seb freaking out abt him falling in love with chris early in their relationship, preferaby in the tune of hercules ost ‘i won’t say i’m in love’ :D
> 
> anon also-also asked: For Fork&Knife prompts…what about the first “I love you”?? I died thinking about it lol
> 
> anon also-also asked: The first time they tell each other 'I love you’ please. Your characterization of seb and chris is so soft and beautiful I’m very in love. ❤️
> 
> anon also-also asked: Hi can you write about them actually saying “I love you” to each other? Thank you <3
> 
> anon also-also asked: I love this series and I wait for it daily. I would love to see a story about the first time they said “I love you” to each other.
> 
> anon also-also asked: Love your fork and knife series! How did they first say I love you? (I can’t remember if you’ve done this or not sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE IT IS with Seb-related thanks to my consulting department, @adios-esposito.

Chris is maybe being a big fat weirdo.

He’d never admit it, but he’s secretly watching interviews of his co-workers on his phone.

And by _co-workers_ , he means Sebastian.

“I just, I love Chris,” Seb says on-screen, gaze drifting away from the camera with a big, dopey smile on his face.

Chris grins back stupidly.

And then, like the universe is set out to butt fuck him, someone sidles up to the arm of his chair right as his dumb smile maxes out at ‘disgusting human in love.’

Caught red handed, Chris fumbles his phone and looks up into Scarlett’s perfectly neutral face.

She raises one eyebrow before asking with a smirk, “What’s up?”

“Just,” He starts, and then stumbles, brain blanking out. Scarlett is totally silently judging him. “Watchin’ stuff.”

She arches her eyebrow fully - Chris, swear to god, thinks she gained some kind of sixth fucking sense after having a kid - and then settles down into the chair beside him.

On the monitor bank set up in front of the sea of chairs they’re currently taking advantage of, Mackie is doing the same stunt for the fifth time today.

“You’re cute,” Scarlett finally says, pretending not to notice the way Chris angles his phone away from her.

~

Later that month they’re in Germany, shooting the majority of the Bucharest scenes.

For the first time in his life, Chris has never been happier with his decision not to overly bulk up; as of this moment, they’ve got approximately 26 hours to do whatever they want before they’re expected back for a night shoot, and Seb is likely going to spend at least 5 of them eating.

In fact, in the four days they’ve been here so far, Chris has seen the following:

Seb, waking up at 2:30AM, removing himself out from underneath Chris’s arm, and rolling over to eat a power bar in bed.

Seb, frowning at 6:30AM, standing in his underwear at the kitchen counter, and working his way through four plain boiled eggs.

Seb, in-between takes at 4:30PM, eating plain chicken off a paper plate from craft services, and grimacing.

Chris is not jealous of the process, but goddamn if he isn’t taking full advantage of the results. 

It’s early afternoon when he rolls out of bed, snagging a pair of Seb’s sweatpants off the floor on his way to the kitchen. They’ve pulled all the blackout blinds so it’s hazy and blue; he could definitely sleep more, but his internal clock’s all fucked up and now he’s got to pee.

Chris hits up the bathroom and realizes on his way back to bed it’s almost 2:30, which is one of Seb’s feeding hours.

He takes a detour, looping back to get one of Seb’s weird pre-packaged meals from the fridge, and throws it in the German microwave he’s still not entirely sure he knows how to use.

While the food warms up, he takes the opportunity to stretch out his arm. It’s been fucking killing him since they did this pull stunt a couple days ago, and so far physio hasn’t helped much.

By the time these movies are over, he’s going to be wrecked.

“Ugh,” He grimaces to himself, pulling Seb’s little meal out of the microwave. It looks fucking gross. Chris has no idea how Seb manages to eat four of these a day.

He snags a bottle of water from the mini fridge on his way back to bed, too.

In their room, Seb’s still dead asleep in the exact position Chris left him in.

He’s been running hot lately, temperature wise, since bulking up. It pisses him off, but Chris kinda loves it - and this is demonstrable evidence of why. Seb’s kicked off all the blankets, and moved around enough that his underwear are practically falling off.

Never too much of a good thing, Chris thinks to himself, standing there. He does want to sleep, though, not fuck, so he stops staring at Seb’s ass for a minute, and moves around to his side of the bed.

He’s almost made it back in when Seb’s food alarm goes off.

“Fuck,” Seb swears, startling awake and immediately reaching for his phone.

Chris grimaces as his foot gets stuck in the twisted blanket, and says, “Fuck, I thought I’d be able to catch that before it went off - I got you some food.”

“Oh my god,” Seb manages, still deeply half asleep as he lumbers himself up into one elbow. He accepts the tiny plate Chris hands him, and tiredly blinks up at Chris to ask, “You got this for me? Ugh, I love you.”

Blinking, Chris stares, stupefied, and watches as Seb takes the plate and eats the stupid puck of food in four miserable bites.

When he’s done, Seb makes a sad noise, chugs the entire bottle of water, and digs himself back under the blankets.

~

A year later, they’re all over the place to promote the movie.

This particular morning, Mackie is giving them both shit for being late down to breakfast.

“We got a schedule, people!” He exclaims, jokingly holding his coffee up under his nose to give them both the stink eye. “What kinda dirty ass shit you been up to, look at that face.”

Chris laughs, surprised, and makes an innocent face over his breakfast.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, man,” Chris maintains, jabbing a spoon into his yogurt. It’s the tiniest cup of yogurt he’s ever met in his life, it’s possible the intended recipient is a child. “I’m an angel.”

Truthfully he and Seb haven’t even got around to fucking this morning, he just got a solid eight hours of sleep for the first time in like three weeks. Time zones are the worst, and possibly also invented by satan himself.

“Angel, he says,” Mackie scoffs, giving him another dirty look.

Seb’s laughing, now, too, and sets his spoon down against the edge of his bowl to reach for Chris, sitting to his left.

He stretches to pat Chris’s stubbly cheek, and grins, “America’s sweetheart.”

“Get outta here,” Chris laughs, flapping his hand around, laughing as Seb jabs a finger to his cheekbone before retreating.

“You could end wars with that face!” Seb exclaims, looking over at Mackie passionately before he goes back to his cereal and adds, “I fuckin’ love it.”

Mackie doesn’t even clock the word ‘love’ - or, if he does, Chris doesn’t notice it. All Mackie does is roll his eyes and launch a packet of sugar across the table.

When it pings off the edge of Seb’s cereal bowl, he squawks, offended.

~

A month later, they’re back in LA for a few weeks between work commitments.

So far today, they’ve:

Hiked Runyon Canyon, bought $250 worth of groceries they’ll probably eat in four days, tracked down a replacement for Chris’s broken car fob, and eaten about five pounds of Mexican food for lunch.

Right now Chris is:

Driving, and smacking Seb’s hand away from his ear.

“You’re the worst - stop!” He announces, trying not to laugh as Seb calls him a bitch again and then launches back into the fucking song he’s been fucking singing all fucking morning.

While they were looking for a parking spot at Trader Joe’s, it was, “BITCH better HAVE my OATmeal.”

As Chris was sitting in the driver’s seat, sweating with all the windows closed while he tried to pry his old key fob off the ring, it was, “BITCH better HAVE my NEW fob.”

And, finally, as they drove down the freeway towards their neighborhood and the best Mexican place in it, it was, “BITCH better HAVE my TACOS.”

It’s constant background noise to their day of otherwise menial errands, and Chris has never been happier to get home - if only to escape Rihanna for a few precious moments.

He’s been sitting on the couch in silence for eight glorious minutes when Dodger comes skittering through, then the sound of the back door clicking shut echoes after him.

Seb doesn’t make an immediate appearance, but it doesn’t matter. Chris’s brain has been re-written to perform only under a constant loop of “BITCH give ME your MONEY!!”

With a groan, Chris smiles despite himself, and tips his head back against the couch cushions.

“Hey!” He calls, angling his voice into the kitchen. “Rihanna! Come here.”

The kitchen cupboard closes and then he hears flip flops flapping against the hardwood before Seb appears in the doorway, wearing a pair of Chris’s gym shorts, sandals, and absolutely nothing else.

“What’s up, bitch!” Seb greets, walking straight across the room to the back of the couch, and bending over it to kiss Chris on the head.

Chris sighs, but tilts his head back a bit further so Seb can at least get one on his mouth, as well. Seb is all smiley and stupid looking, and Chris can tell he’s clearly very amused with himself by the way his eyebrows are arched halfway up his forehead.

He’s also desperately trying to hold back whatever it is that wants to launch itself from his mouth.

“I’m going to kill you,” Chris explains, and is able to keep a neutral face until Seb cackles and steps over the back of the couch, flip flops still on his stupid bare feet.

Let the record state that before today, Chris had heard this stupid song once - while drunk, at karaoke. Since Seb discovered the music video approximately ten hours ago, Chris has heard the lyrics so many times he’s horrified with himself that he understands what Seb says next. 

“You WON’T be-cause you LOVE me,” He half talks and half sings, getting all up in Chris’s face as he does so.

Before he moves away, he holds onto Chris’s face with one thumb on his chin, and presses a proper kiss to his bottom lip.

Chris blinks, frozen in place for a second, and then watches as Seb continues on his way. He climbs off Chris’s lap, and has to pause and unwedge his flip flop, which is still somehow on one foot but now also stuck between the couch cushions.

Afterwards, Chris sits there for a long time, floored.

~

Obviously Chris is in love with Sebastian.

Like. A lot. He’s pretty sure people in space can see it.

It’s not the being in love with Seb that’s the problem; it’s the saying it.

Out loud. Using human words.

He deeply regrets not saying something earlier. If he’d had his game face on, he could’ve just replied “Yes I do!” and then kissed Seb on the chin.

That would have been adorable. Fuck, Chris thinks to himself, disappointed.

Because instead here he is, fidgeting in the bathroom, brushing his teeth way longer than he usually does - which Seb already maintains is too long. He washes his face, pokes at his beard in the mirror, and then knocks the light off.

In bed, Seb is frowning in concentration at his phone.

Chris gets into his side and lays there, staring at the ceiling they chose to paint this particular shade of gray, and lets the anxiety ebb and flow through his chest. He’s gotta say it. Now’s the time.

“I love you,” He finally blurts, head immediately jerking to the side so he can see Seb’s response.

Seb’s thumb hovers over what he’s texting, and then he turns to look down at Chris with a weird expression on his face.

“I know,” He replies, in a way that says ‘where the fuck have you been.’

Chris blinks up at him, stunned.

“You know?” He asks, feeling stupid not for the first time in his life.

Grinning, Seb sets his phone down on his side table, and then rolls over on top of Chris, bracing himself over Chris’s body until they’re nose to nose.

“I love you too,” Seb pauses - and it’s just a fraction of a second, but the moment of silence that follows gives Chris a flush of unadulterated hope - before it’s completely dashed when Seb adds, “Bitch.”

“Oh my god,” Chris laughs, trying to dip away from Seb’s mouth as Seb cackles and leans in again, attempting to score another kiss. “Fuck you, I take mine back!”

Seb is still cracking up, laughing with his whole face and clearly very pleased with himself.

“No take backs,” He manages to get out through his ebbing laughter, and man.

Love kind of seems like an understatement to Chris, sometimes.


	38. seventy times seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @jainamac asked: ooh that could be another one - telling family/friends. God I'm lmao just imagining Scott's reaction to Chris landing a guy like Seb when he's previously been Mr. Straighty McStraighterson or at least more than Sebastian ever was
> 
> anon also asked: I love your Fork and Knife series? Could you write about them coming out to friends, family, costars after the make their relationship official?
> 
> anon also-also asked: I wish you would write a fic where Scott finds out Chris is fucking/dating Seb, and he's not surprised by the dude thing - he's just astounded that Chris could land a guy that hot
> 
> [Read it on tumblr here](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/149693520375/jainamac-asked-ooh-that-could-be-another-one)

“Are you fucking with me?” Scott asks, clearly flabbergasted.

Chris makes a face, and looks up from the last pieces of his omelette. He asks, “Why would I be fucking with you?”

“That’s just... a lot of information to... take in,” Scott manages, raising his eyebrows. He flips the pancake he’s working on and asks, “Isn’t that like, a no-no or whatever?”

Confused, Chris frowns at Scott over their breakfast, spread along the length of the kitchen island, and waves his fork around in a ‘I need more’ gesture.

“The co-worker thing,” Scott specifies, reaching for his mimosa.

Chris shrugs at that, and eats a huge bite of egg. Through a mouth full of disgustingly bright yellow and orange omelette, he says, “We’ve been dicking around for years.”

“ _Excuse me?!”_ Scott fumbles, almost losing his spatula. “How the fucking shit...”

Like, honestly. Chris boning dudes has never exactly been something he kept on the total down low - not until the Marvel thing came around, anyway - but this... is news.

To Scott.

“The heart works in mysterious ways, man,” Chris grins, reaching for the ketchup. His face suddenly has the disgustingly sappy expression of a human in love all over it.

Seriously - if the heart eyes emoji ever needs an actor to play it in a movie, Chris is their guy.

“Wait a minute. Back up, this is like... a love thing?” Scott asks, arching a skeptical eyebrow.

He flips the last pancake, and flops it across Chris’s plate as punctuation.

“Yeah,” Chris manages, poking at his pancake before he looks up and adds, “I wouldn’t tell you otherwise. Mom already knows.”

Snorting, Scott replies, “Of course mom already knows. I swear to god, you were born with a horseshoe in your ass.”

“What does that mean?” Chris asks, laughing even though he looks a little offended.

Honestly - and like, not to be that guy - but Chris just kind of ends up with things. Hey, here’s a huge movie franchise. Hey, here’s a stack of scripts to read and never audition for. 

And apparently also hey, here’s a really hot famous actor to bone.

Enjoy, you lucky fucking bastard.

Turning the oven element off, Scott rolls his eyes, and sets the spatula down.

“Man, look at your life. Look at it. Sit down,” he commands, walking around the kitchen island to push Chris’s shoulders down, so he’s sitting up straight on the stool. “And think about it. You must have been a disfigured saint in your last life.”

Chris claps his hands in a vaguely churchy way, and bounces his shoulders, swaying from side to side a little as he reaches for a piece of toast.

“Listen,” he says, after jamming half of the toast slice into his mouth with one jaw cracking crunch, “I’m telling you now, and there you go. Don’t make it weird!”

Pfft, Scott make it weird.

“It’s not weird,” he promises, heading back around to his own plate, “I’m just surprised. He’s like... really close to being out of your league.”

“He’s phenomenal,” Chris agrees with a laugh, rubbing his crumby hand off on the front of his t-shirt. “It took me five years to realize he wasn’t going to go anywhere. He likes me for some reason, you believe that?”

“That’s... suspiciously cute,” Scott admits, eating a forkful of egg. They lapse into silence - just the sound of chewing - until he swallows and asks, trying to keep it as vague as possible, “So you’ve been - whatever - for what, like actually five years?”

Chris snorts and shakes his head.

“We hooked up on the first movie,” he explains, and then shrugs, “It was supposed to end there. It didn’t.”

And that’s all the detail Scott requires. He smirks and teases, “And then you fell in love. What a couple of homos.”

“Thanks,” Chris laughs. “Anyway, now you know.”

Scott nods, watching Chris’s face for a minute, and then admits, “You sound happy and stuff.”

It’s - it’s really nice to see his brother this way.

“I am. You know, I really am - it’s kind of crazy,” Chris smiles, voice honest as he says, “The relationship thing hasn’t really... worked for me, with other people. But with him, it just does.”

Smiling despite himself, Scott cracks, “Wow, look at you, all grown up.”

“No way,” Chris snorts immediately, rolling his eyes at himself. “I’m still riddled with insecurity.”

That’s... not out of character at all, actually. Trust Chris to look like he does, have the eight figure bank account and the dopey dumbass personality, and still have insecurities.

What Scott actually says out loud is, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” Chris shrugs. “Seb is... he’s... you know. Pretty...”

“Gay?” Scott supplies.

Chris gives him a straight mouthed ‘shut the fuck up bout my man’ expression, there and gone so fast Scott could have sworn he dreamt it for a second.

“He’s smart and he dresses well, and he definitely puts up with my shit,” Chris explains, looking thoughtful. “I’m a meatball, bro. Even you, you’re like, a gold star gay, and I’m just...”

Snorting again, Scott asks, “Fucking the hottest man in the world?”

“Hey!” Chris exclaims, even though now he’s kind of laughing.

“You got your name on that dick, I get it,” Scott promises, “but that face is still out there, walking around in the world.”

Chris kind of blushes at that, rubbing at his forehead a bit.

“Yeah, well, I’m happy... you know. Waking up to that face,” he finally manages, looking like he’s struggling not to get too sappy or say something dirty. “So, now you know.”

Scott pours them another round, and laughs, “You’re gross now. Let’s talk about something else.”


	39. it takes a while to grow anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: The first time they show PDA around their families

“Gross,” Scott grimaces, making a sour face over the rim of his drink.

On the other side of the table, Chris makes a face and asks, “What?”

“You,” Scott counters easily, squinting at Chris, and then at Seb. “And you.”

Seb wrinkles his nose and laughs at that. As if that isn’t the most offensive thing Scott has ever seen in his life.

They’re not even THAT handsy with each other - though, Scott knows they’re playing a dangerous game with the jug of booze in the middle of the table. It’s just the way they look at each other that’s all… outrageous. 

Scott hasn’t looked at anything like that since the last time he stumbled across a ten inch dick on Grindr.

“Mom is gonna love you,” he sighs, shaking his head as he goes back to eating.

Chris frowns at that, and says, “Seb’s met mom before.”

“Yeah, as some work rando,” Scott counters, snorting as he looks over at Seb again and rolls his eyes. “Good luck, by the way.”

Seb chews, leans back, and smiles with his mouth closed.

“Hey!” Chris exclaims, automatically resting one arm along the back of Seb’s chair. Jot that down as gross evidence. “Mom’s nice.”

After swallowing, Seb shrugs and says, “I’m good with moms.”

Chris, with his free hand, reaches for the water jug beside the sangria jug, and says seriously, “I bet you are, babe.”

Oh, god. Now Scott really is gonna vom.

“You’re all… couply and shit,” he reviews, studying the two of them. The last time Chris fawned over anyone like this, it was 1993 and he was trying to impress their babysitter. “It’s just weird.”

Seeing a sibling in any kind of romantic embrace is weird, but Chris especially.

“You’re weird,” Chris easily counters, reaching for the tortilla chips.


	40. I waste all my time just thinking of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: chris being lowkey jealous of all the recent mackiestan during the press tour (but it's okay bc he knows seb and anthony are bros) + HIGHKEY jealous of seb's recent interview (and subsequent intense flirting) with sharon stone? can you make this happen, evanstan goddess?](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145438288285/anon-asked-chris-being-lowkey-jealous-of-all-the)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALWAYS

“Dude, he’s your boy, I got it,” Mackie laughs, side-stepping towards the food and away from Chris’s attempt at getting his hands on Sebastian, “I gotta say though, I’m a little jealous, man.”

Seb laughs, holding onto the arm around his waist as he says, “I love you, Mack. Don’t worry. Me and you will be together one day.”

“I’ll be waiting, seabass,” Mackie promises, loading his paper plate up so much it starts buckling in the middle.

It’s 6AM, and they’re all in varying stages of waking up. Mackie’s been up for hours, probably had an hour in the gym while they were all still asleep. Seb got up long enough ago to have a shower. Chris literally rolled out of bed wearing the same sweatpants and hoodie he’s got on right now.

“Coffee,” Chris grumbles into Seb’s shoulder, tucking his nose right where the layered fabric meets Seb’s bare neck.

This is what Chris always looks like with a couple hours sleep in him. Ruffled around the edges, slow, and unwilling to deal with any more than one problem at a time. This morning, Mackie and Seb roasting each other over the pastries is his problem.

“Hey pal you forgot your waffles,” Seb calls over his shoulder, directing his voice towards where Mackie is sitting at one of the little hotel breakfast tables.

A few businessmen look up from their tablets, but otherwise Seb’s early morning faux pas goes unnoticed.

When Mackie comes back to pick up his stack of waffles, he laughs and then grimaces at the way Chris is still plastered all over Seb’s back. He says, “You got a real problem, my man. You got a bear on your back. This is disgusting. I’m callin’ HR, dude.”

“Romance in the workplace,” Seb supplies, reaching back to blindly pat the back of Chris’ head.

Mackie intones, “I hear it usually doesn’t work out.”

“Haha,” Chris laughs, tired, into Seb’s hair.

~

“Are you actually kidding me right now,” Seb cackles, leaning back in his chair to laugh and laugh and laugh, one hand held over his stomach.

Chris, across from him in the jet, snaps, “Yeah real fuckin’ funny, laugh it up, asshole.”

“It’s _cute_ ,” Seb promises, even though he’s still cracking up.

When Chris goes back to looking at his phone, Seb manages to temper his delighted expression into just a smile. He looks down the length of the private jet - no one but them and their publicists - and then hops from one side to the other, falling into the bench seating beside Chris.

“Go away,” Chris says, without any heat in his tone.

Seb waits, resting his chin against the muscle in Chris’s shoulder and making his eyes as wide and as innocent as he possibly can. He blinks a few times, raises his eyebrows to make himself the picture of childhood innocence, and smiles when he finally sees Chris’ eyes slide in his direction.

Chris doesn’t turn his head, but Seb can tell Chris stole a glance by the way his gaze snaps right back to his phone.

“Babe,” Seb intones, drawing his eyebrows together. He tries to be serious. Then he blows on Chris’s ear until the patented Evans Patience finally snaps and Chris groans, dropping back into the seat.

“What do you _want_ ,” Chris moans, shoving him away by the arm. Seb laughs and grabs Chris’s hand. “I’m trying to live my life, here.”

Seb closes his eyes and raises Chris’s hand up, flattening Chris’s palm against his face, fingers over his eyes and the bridge of his nose. Eyes closed, Seb exhales against Chris’s hand and says, monotone, “My name is Chris Evans and I’m jealous of Sharon Stone, a nice lady from Pennsylvania.”

Frowning, Chris tries to yank his hand away, but Seb has him solidly against the wrist. He curls his fingers into Seb’s face instead, stretching his eyelid out and pushing his nose up cause he can.

“Sharon Stone can have you,” He says, still grumpy. Seb laughs and looks like an idiot with his nose all pushed up and his cheek smushed under Chris’s thumb.

Seb finally tugs Chris’s hand away, presses a kiss to his palm, and promises, “I don’t want Sharon Stone. Maybe next year. I think I have a lot to learn before she - ow!!”


	41. down in jersey lumber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: I'd love to see how they decided to live together in the K&F series. I feel like it would be ridiculous but also some combo of sweet/hot that they always have. You're the best and I love them all but your Seb voice is just so spot on for me.](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/146004614710/anon-asked-id-love-to-see-how-they-decided-to)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!!

_LA_

“Yeah, I should land around 5:30,” Seb confirms. On the tiny screen of Chris’s iPhone, he frowns down at the paper itinerary in one hand. “Wait. Six.”

Grinning, Chris props his iPhone up on his belly, and watches Seb on screen, shuffling around and trying to get himself ready to pack up and leave by tomorrow morning.

“You should bring more stuff,” Chris says, raising one arm up to fold behind his head. On the mattress beside his knee, Dodger starts scratching himself and shaking the bed.

Seb frowns, confused. “Why do I need more stuff? I’m only there for four days.”

“Like, permanent stuff,” Chris elaborates. Kind of.

It takes a moment for Seb to understand what it is Chris is suggesting.

“For... living?” He asks after a minute. His face is perfectly neutral.

Chris grins and nods.

 

_Boston_

They’ve been living together whenever either of them are in LA. Seb’s got a key to the house, now, and his name is on the security system emergency contact list.

“I gotta go home this weekend,” Chris says from the kitchen. Seb’s across the room, in the living area, spread out over the couch and reading a script. “My nephew’s in a play. First play! You believe that?!”

Seb grins and looks over at Chris half dressed in the kitchen. “That’s cute, you better send me a picture. Are you gonna stop by the house and figure out the backyard?”

Chris hasn’t been back to Boston much since adopting Dodger. Main reason being, last time he was, Dodger got out of the backyard through a hole between two bushes.

So, before he goes back, Chris has gotta get some fencing installed.

“No,” Chris sighs at himself, tossing his coffee spoon into the sink. It lands with a clatter as he walks around the corner of the counter and heads for Seb. “Maybe I can get my mom to figure something out.”

He steps up onto the couch and stands over Seb so he can drop down into Seb’s lap. He belatedly tries to balance his coffee cup.

Seb immediate steals the mug and takes a sip.

“Oh my god that’s disgusting,” He scowls, making a face at the amount of sugar free sweetener Chris secretly uses. Once he’s sucked the weird chemical flavor out of his mouth, Seb looks up at Chris and offers, “I have nothing going on this month, I could set something up.”

Chris makes a face down at him. “I can’t ask you to do that, this is your first month off in like a year.”

“I don’t mind - I’m offering,” Seb grins, sliding both hands up the legs of Chris’s boxer briefs. “You’ll be in Louisiana anyway. I won’t miss you.”

Laughing, Chris leans forward and kisses Seb on the face.

“You’re way too good to me,” He murmurs.

Seb ends up getting a new fence installed. He takes a bunch of shit with him, has lunch with Chris’s mom four times, and never gives the keys back.

 

_Manhattan_

They’re walking back to Seb’s brownstone after dinner.

“I fuckin love New York,” Chris sighs, even though it sounds dangerously close to transitioning into a rant. “Nobody gives a shit about anything here.”

Seb nods and side-steps a suspicious looking sidewalk puddle.

“It’s great,” He agrees, then adds, “You should spend more time here.”

Chris sighs again, then watches Seb’s ass as he jogs up the stairs to his front door, keys already in hand.

“I know,” He belatedly agrees, following. He’s carrying the leftovers; usually he’s not a big day two food fiend, but this Indian is basically the greatest thing he’s ever put in his mouth. Second greatest thing he’s ever put in his mouth. He adds, “You’re right.”

Seb lets them in and then closes the door as Chris takes a right towards the kitchen to put his food away. This place is bigger than the first one Seb bought when he originally moved to Manhattan. He got it with the assumption this would be the place he settled down in.

Maybe not with a Family-family, but his own version of it.

Standing in the front hall, key still in hand, Seb feels the realization hit him like a kick to the gut.

“Shit,” Is what he says out loud.

Chris appears in the doorway. He starts shrugging out of his coat and asks, “Did you leave your card at the restaurant again?”

“No,” Seb replies, “Just realized something.”

The next day, he gets an extra key made.

A week later, two boxes show up from Boston.

 

_LA #2_

“Alright I don’t wanna be that guy,” Chris laughs, as they walk down the front hall. They’ve barely been inside the house for five minutes. “But this is the one.”

Behind him, poking his head into a cupboard, Seb feels his heart in his throat.

The real estate agent laughs.

“Always go with your intuition,” She says, unhelpfully.

Chris turns around. He looks like an open book: happiness written all over his face. Seb finds himself grinning back. His heart is about to bust open, he’s pretty much sure of that.

“Seb,” He says, gesturing around - white walls, panelling, dark floors, an open concept without being too modern. “Come on.”

Laughing, Seb locks eyes with Chris. An entire conversation passes between the two of them in less time than it takes to need to blink.

“Yeah,” Seb grins, and then nods towards the kitchen. “Let’s look at what else we got.”


	42. meet me tonight on the turnpike my darling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [omg so idk if you saw but when the moderator was like "but cap REALLY loves bucky." Chris called Seb 'honey' so I would love maybe a 5+1 times fic of Chris calling Seb pet names? Or whatever direction you want to take it in lmao I love your writing!!](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145435369075/omg-so-idk-if-you-saw-but-when-the-moderator-was)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good god, anon, you know the way to my heart.

1: “Babe, we’re -” Chris cuts himself off when he smashes his baby toe into the edge of the hotel bed and staggers against the mattress, “Ow, fuck!”

From the attached sitting room, Seb wanders in, pulling a t-shirt down over his stomach. He frowns at Chris, now sitting on the foot of the bed and clutching his bare foot in his lap, and asks, “What the hell are you doing?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Chris swears again, passionately. He grimaces at his foot - the smallest, weakest toe of them all taking on a metal bed frame - and has to shake his head before explaining, “Stubbed my toe. We’re gonna be late.”

Seb gestures down at himself, says, “I’m ready, you’re not even wearing shoes.”

The look Chris levels at him makes Seb laugh. He kneels against the fancy hotel room carpeting, taking care not to dirty his clean pants, and pets Chris leg until he stops swearing.

 

2: They’re at Seb’s brownstone in NYC.

Chris got off his flight from Boston two hours ago, and arrived at the front door an hour and a half after that. Despite this, they are both already covered in sweat and deeply entrenched in fucking.

“Ah,” Seb manages, tilting his head back against the sofa cushions as Chris adjusts his hips and their angle. He raises an arm over his head, and wraps his hand around the couch arm, managing to keep his voice steady as he looks at Chris and says, “Don’t fuck me onto the floor this time.”

Flushed down his chest and more interested in Seb’s ass, Chris readjusts Seb’s legs hung over his forearms, and pants, “No promises.”

Seb starts laughing, but then it turns into a groan when Chris resumes fucking him, a quick and brutal pace to match the desperation blooming between them from the moment Chris sent a text that said _4pm flight friday see you soon baby_

 

3: The doll thing kind of starts as a joke.

Everyone is drunk, which should be no surprise to anyone. Beer has been flowing for hours: Chris practically has fratboy in his blood, but has since traded up to craft kegs rather than flats and flats of Bud cans.

Maybe the keg is also the decision that led to everything deteriorating to this point. Seb will never know for sure, only history will tell. As it stands, he’s at the kitchen counter doing knife tricks for all of Chris’s school friends.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” One of them is saying, over and over, staggered at the way Seb throws the knife up into the air and catches it. If it wasn’t for the fact Seb personally drank 1/4th of their last keg, he might try something fancy.

As it stands, Seb is fucking hammered. Hammered enough to take off a finger if provoked into stepping up his game.

Of course that’s when Chris makes an appearance from the living room, sliding an arm around Seb for the first time since the bags and bags of takeout arrived.

“That’s my man,” Chris is drunkenly ranting, petting at Seb’s flanks, one hand going up the back of his shirt when one of his friends is particularly heart-eyed over one of Seb’s tricks. “He’s my doll.”

The thing you have to know about Chris, is when he’s drunk, he’s a fucking eighteen year old boy from Boston. So, when he says doll, what he’s really saying is _daaaahhhhl_ just like _Sattaday_ and _kegga._

Laughing, Seb throws the knives into Chris’ butcher block for a particularly stunned round of applause, and then does a clap and bow, making sure to back his ass right up into Chris.

 

4: Chris’s mom is all about the terms of endearment. Seb is, upon meeting her for the first time, vaguely horrified when she grabs his face in both hands, squishes his cheeks together, and wrinkles her nose up.

“Look at this piece of birthday cake,” She says, which makes absolutely no sense but has Seb laughing anyways, if for no other reason than for the vaguely crazy look in her eyes. “You are cute as sugar.”

Seb hugs her - god, holidays are weird - and manages to hold her against one side of his body in a half hug until Scott comes to save him.

“Ma,” He intones, grabbing her around the forearm and tugging her away with a vaguely amused grin, “What’s with the groping?”

She laughs and pats Scott’s cheeks too; he keeps her entertained long enough for Seb to find a glass of wine and Chris, who’s awkwardly talking with his hard of hearing uncle over a cheese plate.

“Anyway, Bobby, this is Seb!” Chris yells, getting an arm wrapped around Seb’s shoulders and tugging him over. Seb manages to switch the hand holding his wine glass just in time to accept an incoming handshake from Uncle Bobby. When Bob frowns and stares Seb in the face, Chris reiterates, louder, “SEBASTIAN.”

Uncle Bobby grips Seb’s hand for a few long moments - old, cold, touch of death right around the corner - before going back to the cheese plate, tucking a couple crackers in the front pocket of his suit jacket for later.

“Your mom told me I was a cheesecake or something,” Seb laughs, as they wander down the length of the buffet, Chris nosing at the nape of his neck and awkwardly walking around the stride of his heels. “You Evans got me feeling like a piece of meat.”

Chris laughs and bites a little at Seb’s shoulder, and then, as an after thought (and while he’s reaching for a plate of appies), presses his hips against Seb’s ass and intones, “Got your meat right here.”

“Cheesecake,” Seb corrects, and goddamn them, he’s _acclimatized._

 

+1: The lights are so bright Seb blinks awkwardly, trying not to look like he’s frowning as his eyes adjust.

Beside him on stage, Chris and the remainder of the cast are standing in a disjointed line, with the moderator of the screening at the very end.

“Chris, maybe you can introduce us to everyone here,” The moderator says, pointing at Chris with one of his notecards.

Seb smiles and loosens his grip on his mic: long as he isn’t the one front and center, he’s perfectly happy to stand here and fuck around. Chris studiously goes head by head down the line of people; big cast, with the new movie.

When he gets to Seb, he says, “And this is Seb, my,” Pause and a recalculation, so fast Seb’s sure nobody else in the room picks up on it, “My co-star to my left, here.”

Seb grins and waves at the crowd - good save - and then steps a little further to the side, just enough to brush he and Chris’s elbows together through their suits.


	43. you found a good man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: chris and seb morning sex? and then they go grocery shopping and probably argue on some shit](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145468668395/anon-asked-chris-and-seb-morning-sex-and-then)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANON IT'S LIKE YOU KNOW ME

Chris eats out like a fucking _champ._

“Fuck, uhhh,” Seb is panting, face down in the pillow because that’s where he landed earlier. He’s got one hand twisted into the sheet, now dangerously close to popping off the corner of the mattress, and the other tangled in Chris’s hair behind him.

He flexes his thighs, trying to compensate for the flush of heat working its way through his gut, and then swears again. Behind Seb, Chris settles his palms on the soft skin at the backs of Seb’s knees, and presses his thumbs into the muscles at the side of Seb’s calves.

Seb’s going nowhere fast, now, and he isn’t complaining.

“i’m gonna fuck ya,” Chris breathes, pulling back from Seb’s spit covered ass, the backs of his thighs pink from where Chris was grabbing him earlier, “Fuck, _fuck_ you’re gorgeous.”

Seb groans and pushes his face back into the pillow, lifts his ass up into the air. Chris is an ass man and everyone knows it; Seb especially. A little strategic ass is Seb’s skeleton key to getting what he wants nowadays.

Behind him, Seb feels Chris shuffle back on his knees, and then stretch across the short distance between bed and side table for lube. Seb pushes himself up onto one elbow and watches over his shoulder as Chris rests one hand around his own cock; he’s panting, too, hazy eyed and flushed.

“Get fuckin’ to it,” Seb bitches, reaching to snag the lube out of Chris’s hand before he can say anything about it. In one well-timed push, Seb rolls them over, lands with Chris on his back and Seb straddling one thigh.

“Baby don’t,” Chris groans, as Seb starts jerking him off with lube. His hips automatically start to pump into Seb’s fist, but the muscles at the base of his cock are straining, like he’s trying to hold himself back. He pants, “I’m gonna come - _fuuck, Seb._ ”

With a grin Seb backs off, sets to repositioning himself and petting Chris with the hand not covered in lube. Chris reaches down, grabs at his own dick, keeps his eyes closed while Seb climbs on top and runs his fingers through Chris’s buzz cut.

The buzz. Seb has been debating posting a picture to Instagram for weeks. He’d caption it _I hear he chops wood now. but only if it’s good and hard #lumberjack._ The only thing currently holding him back is sobriety.

Without waiting for Chris to give him the go ahead - honestly, Seb kinda likes it when he comes uncontrollably, patience is so much fun to break - Seb reaches back and holds Chris’s cock with one hand, long enough to start sliding down on it.

“Seb,” Chris warns, already panting, head dug back into the pillow. He grabs both of Seb’s hips, starts jerking up as Seb works himself the remainder of the way down.

Settling back, Seb holds onto the top of Chris’s head with one hand, and the curve of his shoulder with the other. He starts moving, up and down, slow at first, but by the time Chris says his name again, they’re both moaning and covered in sweat, struggling for higher brain function.

“Fuck,” Seb swears - Chris is nailing him at the perfect angle, he can barely keep his eyes open. He leans forward and tries to kiss Chris, but they mostly just breathe heavily against one another’s open mouths.

It’s a short ride. Last time they got to fuck like this, it was four months ago and the promo tour was just ramping up. Now, after ten minutes of ass eating and an abandoned handjob, Seb is hit with an orgasm like a rock to the back of the head.

He huffs out a small breath, goes completely non-verbal and grinds his hips down in circles, desperate to keep Chris as deep as he can get.

“Seb,” Chris pants, flushed all down his throat, pink and red and looking so perfect Seb could bite. Chris gets out one more unhinged noise before he comes, body racked with orgasm, muscles shocked into a disjointed rhythm of catch and release.

Seb’s still riding his own, groaning softly as he flexes his hips side to side, sliding up and down just a bit, just a bit, just enough to feel it. Chris pumps up into him in bursts, like he can’t shake the tail end of his orgasm out, until Seb is tightening his own muscles, watching how Chris’s facial muscles jerk and spasm in return.

“Baby, no,” Chris manages, but then tilts his forehead against Seb’s throat, is shocked into one last set of thrusts neither of them were expecting.

When he’s done, body still jumping with muscle contraction, Seb tilts forward and collapses against him.

~

“Don’t talk to me about fuckin pizza,” Chris says, as they round the corner of another aisle and come to stand in front of a fridge end cap full of freshly made, ready to bake pizzas.

Beside him, Seb laughs and moves forward, already reaching for the one they usually get: egg florentine, very fancy.

“Your obsession with pepperoni is - it’s like you’re still in grade school, is basically what I’m saying,” Seb replies, perfectly monotone as Chris snags a six pack of beer from the next aisle.

Between them, they’ve got the pizza, the beer, and a basket full of enough food to get them through the next day or two. Chris may or may not have snuck in a box of pepperoni hot pockets.

“Pepperoni is the best!” Chris exclaims, passionate. He’s dangerously close to ranting. A woman looks at them as they pass by; he lowers his voice, leans closer to Seb, “It’s a classic.”

This close, Seb can smell how Chris still stinks like sex, has a red mark on the side of his neck where Seb sucked a little too hard.

Seb smiles, beatifically, and nods as Chris falls back into a regular stride beside him.

“Whatever you say, man,” He murmurs, pretending to be put out.


	44. she is the slaughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: So there's been lots of rumors about Chris dating a certain person ( j*nny s****) what does seb has to say abt it](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145602511875/anon-asked-so-theres-been-lots-of-rumors-about)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE JENNY SLATE SHE’S FUCKING HILARIOUS
> 
> I think Seb would like her tooooo

Chris is holding the tiniest fucking paper cup of coffee Seb has ever seen.

He’s so deeply entrenched in thinking about the coffee cup’s minuscule existence in Chris’s stupid big hand, that he doesn’t realize someone is trying to get his attention until Chris starts laughing and the tiny cup jiggles against his chest.

“What?” Seb asks, looking around. It’s all _hurry up and wait_ today, press from six to six, so they’re standing around like a bunch of idiots dressed up in suits.

Chris arches his eyebrows and teases, “Whatcha looking at?”

“What?” Seb repeats himself, frowning, then explains, “I was thinking.”

From beside them, Mackie snorts.

“Sure you were, man,” He nods, and then squeezes his own pecs together like he has cleavage, “I like titties too, I get it.”

Chris really starts cackling at that. It tickles him so much he covers his mouth with his free hand and leans back, then pats Mackie on the shoulder to show his appreciation.

“Oh my god,” Seb intones, shoving at Mackie from the other side, “If I wanted tits I’d find someone with less cock.”

“Thanks babe,” Chris laughs, happily.

Mackie sighs, shaking his head and watching the segment in front of theirs on a nearby monitor. He says, “Ya’ll need jesus.”

~

The interview is fine, as far as interviews go.

Nobody says anything wholly terrible, and Seb manages to stay away from talking about lube for an entire twenty minute segment. They ask about Mackie’s wings, Seb’s time on Gossip Girl, and Chris’s supposed relationship with another actress.

Mackie cracks a couple jokes about the wings, Seb stumbles through a “yeah I really loved the experience” on Gossip Girl, and Chris changes the subject with the practiced finesse of someone who’s been deflecting relationship questions for years.

Later that night, they’re out to dinner, just Chris and Seb.

“I didn’t think how weird that was gonna be,” Chris muses, fiddling around with the edge of his napkin.

Across the table, Seb frowns and reaches for his water. He asks, “What do you mean?”

“The relationship stuff,” Chris clarifies, lowering his voice and leaning forward, so the conversation is kept between he and Seb alone. “I mean, this thing we’re doing is important to me, and, and... I don’t know. I’ve never had to talk about rumors like that while the person I’m actually with is standing right beside me and smiling.”

“That’s the job,” Seb shrugs, not unkindly. He starts cutting into his steak, “And she seems like a cool chick. Could be worse, right?”

Sighing, Chris turns his attention back to his dinner.

“Yeah, I guess so,” He manages.

~

After dinner they go up to Chris’s hotel room, because he’s already shelled out for a night’s worth of access to NFL pay-per-view.

Seb stretches out on his side of the bed, full and happy, and closes his eyes.

 _Man_ , he thinks. It’s night like these where it’s so easy to go back and remember what it was like this time last press tour.

They were boning regularly, working regularly, hanging out regularly. It took less than a year for Seb to realize he had feelings - real _fuck you up.com feelings_ \- for Chris. And almost twice that time to admit it out loud.

What a fucking trip, now that he’s on the other side.

Seb opens his eyes, sighing, and looks down at the foot of the bed, to where Chris is standing and undressing.

He’s got his tie off and his shirt half unbuttoned, but is now fully tapped into what the sportscasters on TV are saying. He sits down on the foot of the bed to listen better.

“Hey,” Seb grins, jabbing his toes into Chris’s tailbone.

Chris mostly ignores him, but reaches back to wrap his fingers around Seb’s foot. He rests his thumb against the arch, and resumes unbuttoning his shirt with his other hand.


	45. the closest thing we had to royalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @sakura9842: Hey hello. If you’re not filled to the brim wirh prompts can you do a chris rimming seb and not letting him come as payback. Maybe because seb pranked him along with mackie. ♥
> 
> Reference: [Red Jacket Day](https://thenavynumber.tumblr.com/search/red%20jacket%20day)

By the time they get back to the hotel, Chris is ready to get all up in that.

Seb is already cracking up, back flat against the wall as Chris pushes his shirt up and the waistband of his pants down. White anything is Chris’s favorite: Seb always looks extra tan in it.

“Ah, my belt,” Seb manages, already a little breathless as he drops his head back against the wall, tilting his chin up as Chris comes back in to suck along the line of his jaw. Distracted, Seb adds, “I still have my key card.”

Chris laughs at the mild tone of concern in Seb’s voice, and then, hands moving from Seb’s thighs to up and over his hips, slides his palms around until his fingers are trailing over the buckle of Seb’s belt.

He starts working it open, mouth still kissing down Seb’s neck as Seb gives his key card a half-assed toss towards the bed.

It’s probably safer to get rid of the pants altogether - Chris is maybe sure their stylist will be detouring through tomorrow to collect today’s wardrobe - but also, there’s no chance of that happening.

Instead of being a responsible clothes borrower, Chris tugs Seb’s pants and CKs down, and then turns him by the hips, mouth going back to kiss at the side of Seb’s neck.

“Jesus,” Seb pants, clearly having it, as he leans against the wall hard, one hand holding the majority of their weight up.

Without further adieu, Chris drops to his knees.

“Oh fuck babe,” Seb swears, knee accidentally kicking the wall as Chris gets right to it, one hand on either side of Seb’s ass as he leans in mouth first.

He trails his hands up, fingers pushing Seb’s shirt up from the small of his back, and then slides them around, until he can grab onto Seb’s hips, and pull him backwards and closer to his mouth.

They both groan, and then Seb stumbles, feet tangled in his pants, which are still all stuck around his sneakers.

“You gotta fuck me,” Seb manages, cutting himself off as Chris tries to tug Seb’s pants further down his thighs.

Chris IS gonna fuck him, but first, he’s gonna make him come.


	46. well you're wasting time if you're trying to impress me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [reketrebn asked: okay here I am with a prompt because I'm suffering with a writer's block rn and Evanstan is on the rise and also I love your knife&fork 'verse so... some more domestic Boston time with the Evanses all loving Seb and him being kinda swallowed by the big family and uh..just you know happy fluff? and Dodger :D I hope this is okay!](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145470809145/okay-here-i-am-with-a-prompt-because-im-suffering)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAAAS. Love me some domestic / Evans family. I’m glad you’re enjoying, thank you for the prompt and good luck with the block!! :)

“THAT’S NOT A WORD,” Scott rants loudly.

Across from him Chris is dying laughing, head thrown back, hand on his chest, the whole works.

“Get your fuckin’ dictionary, bro,” Cooper, one of Scott’s old school buddies, says, reaching for his beer. “Get that fuckin’ dictionary out!”

“I don’t have a dictionary! Who has a paper dictionary anymore?!” Scott is now off the deep end of rage, and all because of two square little wooden tiles.

 _Z A X_ , the Scrabble board reads. Seb, purveyor of said tiles, is cackling helplessly, both hands over his face as he leans back in the rickety wooden chair and laughs and laughs.

They’re at Chris’s parents’ house for the long weekend. _I have that old Scrabble board here,_ Chris’s mom said, when the summer rain started. _Beers are in the basement fridge._

Which is how they’ve come to this point: sitting in Chris’s family’s kitchen, all wood panelling and brass and plaid fleece accoutrements, as Scott rants violently, a sore loser who got stuck with all the shitty tiles.

“It’s just a game, bro,” Chris finally says, even though _he’s_ the one winning, as he grins and leans back in his chair, kicking one foot up onto the empty seat next to him. He reaches for his own tiles, “Zax is one hell of a word though.”

“Thank you,” Seb says, still edging with laughter, as he reaches for his beer. As an afterthought, he pretends to tip an imaginary hat, which reduces Chris into helpless giggles again.

Scott says, “You’re both disgusting. Get outta here.”

~

The next day they’re in the backyard grilling, the whole family out on the deck, dogs on the yard below.

“You in town for long, bub?” Aunt Marion asks, walking up to Chris with both arms already outstretched in a hug. Chris lets go of the railing to accept her hug, smiles and presses his face into her shoulder.

He takes a step back and says, “Nah, just the weekend. Back in New York Monday night.”

“They work you kids to the fuckin’ bone,” Marion sighs, “Where’s this dish your mother’s been talkin about?”

Chris laughs and leans back, squinting one eye as he points Sebastian out in the crowd. Seb is grinning and holding a solo cup to his chest as he talks with another one of Chris’s extended family members.

“That’s my guy,” Chris says, as Seb catches him pointing and smiles back, waves.

Marion elbows him a little, says, “You’re blushing. Look at you!”

“He’s alright,” Chris deflects, trying to hold back the extent of the grin on his face. Dodger runs up to him, then, bumping into his knees until Chris reaches one hand down and rests it on his head. Chris turns to Marion and says, “I’m one lucky asshole.”

~

“You’re Romanian!?” Barney, one of Chris’s first cousins who now lives on The Cape full time, exclaims. “That’s fuckin’ rad, man!”

Seb laughs and nods, has a little flash of _can’t believe I’m at a point in my life where I’m getting daydrunk with the Evans family extended._

“It’s pretty alright,” He smiles, tilting his head a little. Somehow when he’s around Chris’s family, his affected New York accent comes out full stop. The other night he and Scott got so wasted they both just kept yelling HEY I’M TRYIN TO WALK HEEEEAH every time they saw Chris.

Speaking of, Dodger makes an appearance in the crowd first, dropping a long forgotten tennis ball at Seb’s feet, and then Chris appears not long after, looking all wind ruffled and happy in the cheeks.

“Hey pal,” Barney says, going in for a hand shake. “Long time no see.”

Chris pulls him into a hug instead, pats his back a couple times and says, “Likewise, man,” before stepping back, hand going to Seb’s back.

“What’s up with you lately?” Barney asks, finishing off the bottom of his drink before gesturing to Seb, “This guy of yours here says you’ve been workin your fuckin ass off.”

With a laugh, Chris settles into the conversation. It’s the perfect tap out for Seb to snag Dodger’s ball, and throw it off the side of the deck to the yard below.


	47. american pie

Read the full length fic here: [american pie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6835174)


	48. reports of lover's trysts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [prompt: evanstan breaks a bed](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/146472734840/evanstan-breaks-a-bed)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one’s for @adios-esposito
> 
> and [here's](http://agelastboy.tumblr.com/post/145465117188/heartbreakbucky-the-shirt-sebastian-is-wearing) the t-shirt in question.

_Philadelphia_

They get back to the hotel later than expected after dinner with Hayley.

Unsurprisingly, she’d been more interested in plying them with alcohol and playing a game of twenty questions than she’d been worried about getting back to their rooms at a decent hour.

That’s how the three of them ended up at a shitty cantina 30 minutes away from the convention centre. Hayley made all kinds of crazy noises and happy faces as they finally copped to the fact they’ve been giving the relationship thing a whirl.

Now, they have to be back at the convention centre in about eight hours.

And counting.

“Fuck,” Chris breathes, reaching out to grab onto the headboard as he shifts more of his weight up onto his knees.

Below him Seb is practically bent in half, calves hanging in the air on either side of Chris’s torso. He’s got one hand wrapped around his own dick, and the other on top of his head, grabbing at his hair. He’s a fucking piece.

Even though Seb is panting, he still manages to sound belligerent as he asks, “Why the hell are you stopping?”

“Ugh, bed’s making weird sounds,” Chris says, wiping the sweat off his face with one hand. He waits, listening, until Seb kicks at his ass with one heel to get him moving again. “Alright, alright.”

Chris’s brows tighten as he pushes back into Seb and groans.

He leans forward until he can drop his forehead against the muscle of Seb’s shoulder and then starts thrusting again, open mouthed against Seb’s skin; Seb moans, watching as Chris palms the backs of his thighs and hoists Seb’s body further up the mattress so he can get a better angle.

That’s when the bed makes a long creaking sound again.

“You really don’t hear that?” Chris pants, slowing down again.

The room is silent, other than the two of them struggling to breathe right. Chris tilts his head to listen.

“You’re paranoid,” Seb finally announces, tightening himself up around Chris to snap him back to the task at hand. “Come on and fuck me.”

Chris laughs at that, breathes “alright,” and pulls out far enough he can get a good deep thrust back in. It’s so good it startles a surprised groan out of Seb.

“I’ll fuck you,” Chris promises now, working his hips and chewing at his bottom lip as he leans back a little, so he can see himself sliding in and out of Seb.

Fuck that’s a good visual. His brain likes looking at that. Chris groans and falls forward again, body taking over with the urge to rut, hands in the pillows on either side of Seb’s head.

Seb’s panting, groaning and pushing up into what Chris is giving him. He wraps his legs around Chris’s waist and lifts his ass off the mattress so he can work himself down in the way he wants.

He can only do that for a few moments before he groans and has to reach up to grab either side of Chris’s head, then angle it to the side so they can kiss.

“Fuck you feel good,” Chris pants, leaving his mouth open against Seb’s as he gets his arm back underneath himself and pushes his body up.

Once he’s back on his knees, he reaches for Seb’s thighs - one of his fucking favorite parts of Seb’s entire body, which is not exactly limited in terms of fine ass pieces - and tugs him forward. He positions Seb until he’s got both hands right where Seb’s ass meets thigh.

That’s another good spot. Top five, Chris figures.

And even better, Seb knows what’s fucking coming. He groans and arches up immediately, eyes glazed as he stares up at Chris.

Chris starts pumping for real, keeping a rhythm. It’s “I’m going to pound you into the mattress so we can fucking finish this” fucking.

He can’t keep his eyes open it feels so good, fuck, he could live and die like this and he’d have had a happy life. Seb sounds fucking happy, too, already making noises and trying to get his feet on the mattress.

Seb can’t quite get his heels down, though, because Chris is holding him too tight below the thighs. 

He’s really fucking plowing it to Seb, breath coming sharp and fast, when there’s a loud cracking sound and the whole room tilt-shifts.

It happens so fast neither of them know what’s happening until it’s over. One minute Chris is on his knees on the mattress with Seb mostly underneath him, and the next he’s bracing himself against the wall over Seb’s upper torso, one forearm against the headboard to steady his weight.

He stares down at Seb, shocked, and realizes they’re also now laying at an angle. For one brief moment he has the hysterical thought that they’ve managed to go right through the floor.

Silence. Seb’s eyes are huge, perfect circles as he stares up at Chris, and Chris stares back down at him, unsure of what else to do.

Then the phone rings.

The noise is what brings them back to reality. Seb tries to shift and look above them at what happened, and Chris snaps back to life.

“Oh my god,” Is about all he can manage as the room phone continues to ring beside them.

He lets go of one of Seb’s legs, which immediately drops to the mattress, and then reaches to answer the phone, which is now at an uncomfortable angle above them.

“The headboard broke,” Seb finally assesses, helpfully.

Chris frowns down at him, breathless and already fucking blushing as he answers the phone.

“Hello?” He answers, reminding himself he’s an adult. He can handle embarrassing situations without making them worse.

He’s never fucked someone through a piece of furniture before, though.

The front desk attendant is on the phone, which isn’t a surprise. She sounds concerned but curious as she says, “Hi! This is a courtesy call - we heard a loud crash in your room, and we wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh, ha ha! It’s fine!” Chris laughs, voice suddenly an entire pitch higher than it usually is as he slips directly into panic mode. “Just slipped in the shower! We’re all good - I mean I’m good, it’s great, I’m fine!”

Seb is pinned down by Chris’s weight. He keeps clenching around Chris’s dick as he moves around, trying to look up and figure out what happened to the bed frame; Chris doesn’t know if the clenching is intentional or not, but it feels fucking _great_.

It is making it really hard to get through an already difficult phone call, though.

“Oh my! Are you alright?” The front desk attendant asks. “May we send you a complimentary drink for the scare?”

Good fucking god - Chris’s face instantly gets about a thousand degrees hotter.

“No no, that’s fine!” He exclaims, still a little pitchy and strangled. “Thank you, bye! Thanks!”

Now Seb is just fully cracking up - like, legit laughing At Chris, rather than With him. Chris reaches to hang the phone up, and then grimaces down at Seb as Seb just laughs and laughs and laughs.

He also notices for the first time that Seb is bracing himself up against the broken headboard with one arm so he doesn’t fall head first into it. Chris, on the other hand, is frozen in sex shame. He starts laughing but covers his face with one hand and shuts his eyes.

“This is _great_ ,” Seb sighs. Every time he sounds like he’s managed to get himself together, he starts laughing again. All Chris can do is groan and palm his face a little harder.

Seb doesn’t have it in his heart to tell Chris he’s face-palming with lubey fingers.

“Alright, well,” Seb grins, wiggling his hips a little. “We can’t unbreak the bed, let’s go.”

Laughing, Chris muffles out from behind his hand, “Are you kidding me?!”

Like, sure, he’s still got a hard-on. It’s a bit of a shame boner, now, but it’s still ready to go. Clearly Seb figured that out.

Seb starts rolling his hips, doing all the work to fuck himself as Chris hangs out on one elbow, flushed from throat to hairline. It takes about thirty seconds of Seb moving before Chris finally groans and puts himself back in the game.

He holds onto Seb’s shoulder so Seb doesn’t have to brace himself back against the headboard as much, and buries his face in Seb’s neck to hide his embarrassment.

“Don’t tell me you aren’t a little proud,” Seb pants, tilting his head back.

He reaches up and holds onto the back of Chris’s head, still tucked into his shoulder.

~

They sleep in Seb’s room that night.

Chris is very careful about placing the ‘do not disturb’ sign on his door as they leave - he also calls down to the front desk to cancel their wakeup call.

He doesn’t have a lot of cash on hand, but he ends up leaving a huge tip for the cleaning ladies even though Seb tells him he should really be paying off the front desk.

Chris is gonna have to hit up an ATM to get enough cash for that.

They looked at the bed before slinking off to Seb’s room, wondering if they could half-ass fix it, but the bolts were literally ripped right out of the wood - they’d managed to separate the headboard from the remainder of the bed frame completely.

“I’ve been working out, man, what can I say?” Seb asks, as they pile into Seb’s room, completely untouched right down to the little welcome note and complimentary toiletries on the bed.

And, side note: they should probably start making sure both of their hotel rooms at least look lived in if they’re going to get away with the down-low thing for long.

“Oh my god,” Chris moans, back in a shame spiral as he sits down at the end of Seb’s bed.

Seb grins, still kind of into it as he comes to stand between Chris’s knees. He rests his hands on Chris’s shoulders and starts pushing him backwards.

“We’re not breaking this one too,” Chris says, halfway back to laying on the mattress, but he also sounds kinda proud of himself.

~

“Here’s my credit card,” Chris tells the front desk lady the next morning, trying to cover his face with the brim of his hat. “Put whatever you need to on it, I don’t care, I’ll sign anything.”

She gives him a weird look, but nods and slides his credit card through the card reader attached to her computer.

When he catches up to Seb later, already outside and waiting in the town car with Starbucks, he immediately clocks his own t-shirt.

“Seriously?” He asks, as Seb grins over at him. He climbs into the car, and accepts the coffee Seb hands over. “You can’t wear that.”

Once Chris has situated himself and the partition is up, Seb settles back against the seat, and sticks out his tongue to navigate the Starbucks straw into his mouth.

“It’s a sex achievement, man,” He explains after, making Chris laugh and then tip his head back against the seat with a groan. He isn’t blushing anymore, at least. “Come on, do you really blame me for wanting a little trophy?”

Chris had a flannel shirt on over it all day yesterday, maybe nobody will notice today. He reaches over to pat Seb on the chest, and thumb at the neckline of the shirt, sitting loose and stretched out over Seb’s chest.

With a big stupid grin, Seb raises his eyebrows, and sips his drink again.


	49. you are far too cute or whatever he said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: Can you please write a fic where they are about to separate since seb has to go to sacramento for a few days for the next con? thanks <3<3](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/146349902195/anon-asked-can-you-please-write-a-fic-where-they)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS LATE i’M SORRY!

“Hey - come back!” Chris complains, almost falling out of bed.

He’s naked and still has half a hard-on, brain slow and stupid after an orgasm that had him fucking Seb halfway up the mattress. When he stretches one arm out, trying to catch Seb, he misses him by about six feet.

Seb ignores the sad noise he makes in response.

It’s way late in the afternoon. They both have a thousand things they need to get independently done to prepare for tomorrow, but what started out as a late morning fuck has now turned into an all-day marathon event.

Chris says he needs the distraction to keep himself from freaking out about his audition tomorrow, which is rooted in enough truth to be the perfect lie. If he wanted a distraction, he’d pop a xanax and play Banjo-Kazooie. Seb knows this, but accepts the dick anyways.

At pretty much the same time tomorrow he’ll be on a flight to California for another convention. During said flight, he’s planning on listening to a bunch of music he’s got on his phone but hasn’t had a chance to check out yet.

Against his better judgement this includes Radiohead and their new album, which is something Chris has insisted he listen to on multiple occasions over the last week. Seb’s going to listen to enough to form an opinion, and not a second more.

In the meantime: marathon fucking.

Flipping the light on in the attached bathroom, Seb stands in front of the sink, ass red, and tilts his head back to poke around in the back of his own mouth.

“I think I cracked a tooth,” He finally announces, grimacing at his reflection once more before he turns and knocks the light off on his way back into the bedroom.

Chris lays in bed, now propped up on one elbow, watching. The confusion is evident on his face - nothing new there, really.

“How the fuck did you crack a tooth?” He asks, reaching out to snag Seb by the elbow before he has a chance to walk back around the bed.

With a shrug, Seb lets himself fall back into bed, landing sideways with his ass on Chris’s bare thighs. He tilts his head back and opens his mouth as wide as it will go, so Chris can see the back molar he was poking at in the mirror.

Chris frowns and peers into Seb’s mouth. If you told him a few years ago they’d be doing this today, he probably wouldn’t have believed you.

“It doesn’t look cracked,” Chris finally assesses, squinting a little more.

Seb frowns and says, “Well it feels cracked.”

Making an agreeable noise, Chris presses a kiss to Seb’s mouth and then tugs him back against the mattress, manhandling him around until they’re folded together and Chris can run a hand through Seb’s hair.

“If you’re thinking about your teeth, I haven’t boned you hard enough,” Chris murmurs, pressing a kiss to Seb’s chin next - always the romantic.

Seb laughs and palms the top of Chris’s skull.

He raises his eyebrows and says, “Ah yes, the old amnesia bone. One screw above fucking me hard enough to break a tooth.”

“I didn’t break your tooth - although I gotta say right now, if I ever fuck the memory right out of you, my work here is done,” Chris grins, settling down on top of him. He tucks his elbows up under Seb’s armpits so he can continue petting his hair.

Seb grins again, starry-eyed and stupid, and lets Chris run his fingers through his hair until Chris’s phone rings on the bedside table.

Groaning, Chris stretches to snag it. With one hand still flopped against Seb’s forehead, he fumbles his phone halfway back to the mattress and answers it before he really means to.

“Fuck, hello?” He asks, already laughing because Seb is.

It’s his agent, which isn’t a surprise, calling with some notes about the audition tomorrow. Chris listens carefully, nodding and thumbing at Seb’s open mouth.

He almost makes it through the whole conversation before Seb has a chance to reach down and palm his dick.

 _Stop,_ Chris mouths, grinning. 

When Seb doesn’t stop, Chris grinds his dick into Seb’s fingers and covers up Seb’s face with his free hand. It’s a classic Sebastian disorientation technique - though this time it doesn’t work.

Undeterred, Seb just bites at Chris’s palm, and blindly pinches Chris’s already tender nipple.

“Can you - ah - email me this?” Chris asks his agent, knotting his eyebrows together as he tries to concentrate on what she’s saying and not the feeling of Seb now thumbing at the head of his cock. “No, I’m driving, I can’t write anything down.”

That makes Seb grin. It’s the only thing Chris can see other than his own hand, still spread across Seb’s face from the top lip up.

Between their stomachs, Seb is still playing around with Chris’s dick. Chris pops himself up on one elbow and uses his free hand to reach down and knock Seb away.

Not only are the wires beginning to get crossed in his brain - his agent’s voice and an impending boner do not compute - he knows if he gets hard again it isn’t going to feel great.

After Chris knocks Seb’s hand away, Seb laughs and tucks himself up into Chris’s throat.  
“No he’s got a convention thing, he won’t be around,” Chris says, answering his agent’s next line of questioning.

Their relationship is firmly on a need-to-know basis at this point, a pool that includes way more people than either of them are really comfortable with. But, like a friend of Scott’s said, it’s better to have your agent on your side when you’re trying to hide a ~scandalous gay romance.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll give you a call after - alright, bye,” Chris says, wrapping up the conversation as quick as he can. He reaches over Seb, and slides his phone back onto Seb’s bedside table.

It’s the perfect opportunity to psych Seb out and roll them over, until Chris is on top and pinning Seb spread eagle, his knees butted to the insides of Seb’s thighs.

“Ahh,” Seb laughs, cracking up instantly as Chris blows a mouthful of air against his pec. It results in a distinctly sharp fart noise. Seb tilts back into the pillow laughing, but manages, “You’re all spitty!”

Cackling, Chris gets his knee up against Seb’s bare ass, and replies, “You’re all come-y!”

“Not my fault someone couldn’t hold it together,” Seb says, trying to complain until he ends up dissolving into laughter when Chris grabs him underneath the thighs and bends him in half again. “Hey!”

With a big stupid grin on his face, Chris leans over Seb’s upper half, one arm still around the back of one of Seb’s thighs. He drops down onto his elbow beside Seb’s head.

“Hey what?” He asks, looking into Seb’s face. Seb smiles back and raises the leg Chris isn’t already holding onto. He rests his heel in the dip of Chris’s back.

Thumbing Chris’s nipple, Seb arches up and says, “Hey I’m going to miss you.”

“It’s only two weeks, doll,” Chris smiles back, brushing his thumb back and forth over Seb’s forehead. He leans in and presses a soft kiss to his mouth, and then murmurs, lips still against Seb’s, “I’ll send you dick pics every day.”

Laughing again, Seb pulls their hips together with his leg, and replies, “Perfect.”


	50. we got something going on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [argonathian asked: a birthday themed fic!](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145549013710/argonathian-asked-a-birthday-themed-fic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for @argonathian and their friend on twitter <3

“Hey,” Seb says, standing half inside the porch doors and half out, “Come on.”

Dodger’s being a fuckhead this morning, wanting to go out and then come in as soon as the door’s closed behind him. Chris has been out of town for going on four days and Seb is slowly losing his mind.

“Give me one more night, huh?” Seb asks, sounding a little more pitiful than one should while talking to a dog.

Dodger cocks an ear and tilts his head.

~

“He couldn’t be that bad,” Chris laughs later that night, making fun of Seb through Facetime, “Put him on.”

Seb is stretched out across the couch wearing only his underwear, and Chris wants to talk to the dog. He pauses Cosmos, which he’s watching on Netflix for the thousandth time this year, and pushes Dodger’s head away from his dinner plate.

“I’m not putting the dog on the phone,” Seb intones, grimacing into the front facing camera to make sure he gets his disgust across.

Laughing, Chris makes a noise and then wheedles, “Come on, please? Just for a minute.”

“The dog doesn’t want to talk to you,” Seb lies, because Dodger is staring up at him like he actually knows what’s going on. “He wants to eat my chicken and sleep on my side of the bed.”

“Just like meeee,” Chris exclaims, leaning really close to the phone, until his forehead is taking up the majority of the screen. When he talks again, his mouth is way too close to the mic, “Did Dodger move out with his girlfriend? Is that why you’re pretending not to let me talk to him?”

That actually makes Seb laugh. There’s a big fat bulldog who lives down the street. She’s white and they see her on a skateboard with her owner every now and then. 

They’ve also written a backstory script about Dodger’s ongoing relationship with her; it’s a whole thing that sounds insane to anyone who isn’t either of them.

“No,” Seb finally relents, and then says, “Dodger, here.”

Chris talks to the dog through the phone, making all kinds of stupid noises to try and get Dodger’s attention. As Seb predicted, Dodger is more interested in the chicken Seb is eating for dinner, and uses the phone on Seb’s bare knee as a reason to get closer to the coffee table.

“I told you,” Seb moans, as he turns the camera back on himself and pushes his plate further into the center of the table, “Not interested.”

Sighing, Chris leans back and says, “Guess I’m just gonna have to talk to you then. At least you’re shirtless, gives me something to look at.”

Seb frowns and raises one hand up to cover a nipple, which makes Chris laugh.

~

 _Happy 35th,_ Seb texts the next day, below a picture of himself and the dog, _We really miss you._

~

Chris gets back late - like, two in the morning late - the day after his actual birthday.

He was up in the air all day and missed pretty much all of his happy birthday messages, except for the one from Seb, which arrived just as he got to the airport. After 25 consecutive hours of flying, Chris is dead fucking tired and ready to crawl into bed and die.

Leaving his junk in the hallway, Chris checks the house alarm and climbs the stairs, pulling himself along by the railing. Dodger woofs quietly from just inside the bedroom door; Chris “shh”s automatically and lets the door creak open.

Seb is passed out in bed, head tipped back against the pillows and mouth wide fucking open. Chris grins and bends down to pet Dodger on the head, settle him back down into rolly-eyed sleep before he wakes Seb up by accident.

A shower can wait until the morning. Chris loses all his clothes - best thing about being home is sleeping naked - and crawls into bed. Seb wakes himself up when he feels the mattress dip.

“Just me,” Chris murmurs, tugging at the covers, “Go back to sleep.”

~

Chris wakes up, and stretches himself out along the length of Seb’s back.

So far, being 35 is fucking awesome.

Even though he’s jet lagged, he feels awake enough. Better than he did when he stumbled through the door six hours ago.

Yawning against the back of Seb’s head, Chris slides his hand up over Seb’s stomach and chest. He blinks sleepily, Seb’s hair getting in his eyes, and thumbs at the chain hanging around Seb’s neck. It’s good. 35 is good.

Seb wakes up a few minutes later, likely directly related to Chris grabbing at him and pressing a hard-on into his ass. But he wakes up slowly, brings Chris’s hand up to his mouth to kiss, and then groans before rolling himself over, taking half of the sheets with him.

“Next year,” Seb murmurs, voice deep and raspy with sleep, “Me, you, Cabo.”

This time next year both their asses will be fully entrenched in filming. They both know it, but Chris smiles and nods anyways, kissing down the side of Seb’s face.

“Yeah,” He sighs, as Seb slides his leg in-between Chris’s, “That sounds fuckin perfect, doll.”


	51. 24

Read the full length fic here: [24](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6867859)


	52. it's only you, beautiful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: Seb just hit 1 mi followers and he feels very lucky about his fans but also about having Chris in his life as they relax with some wine in the jacuzzi in Chris' LA house](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/146819722265/anon-asked-seb-just-hit-1-mi-followers-and-he)

“There’s some vodka in here,” Seb announces, crouched down behind the wet bar set up at the deep end of the pool.

Below him, Chris is already submerged up to his hips and trying to get water out of one ear. He frowns and wanders closer to the edge, so he can see what Seb’s doing.

“That’s the bad stuff,” He squints, trying to get a better look at the label as Seb holds it up for him with a curious expression on his face. “Bogey puked for days after he drank that.”

Seb rolls his eyes and puts the vodka back in the fridge. Bogey is one of Chris’s friends from Boston who always shows up already trashed; if a night doesn’t end with Bogey puking or bleeding, something has gone wrong.

“Alright, then we got wine or... a six pack of coolers,” Seb announces, setting both out on the counter so Chris can see them.

While Chris decides, Seb packs a quick bowl, fingers still damp from the pool as he transfers the indica from their grinder to the piece. Aside from a couple paid appearances, the only thing Seb has to worry about between now and fall is an increasing gym schedule. This is heaven.

Chris pulls himself out of the pool and wanders over, one hand wrapping around the neck of the wine bottle as the other goes around Seb’s waist.

It’s automatic. Seb grins to himself as the hand slides from his left side, to his ass, and then to his right side.

“This looks good,” Chris says, like he knows anything about wine. Seb puts the lid back on the weed tupperware and leans against the counter with one hip, watching as Chris reads the label.

Seb really fucking loves this guy, and it’s times like these his brain floods with all kinds of fuzzy endorphins to remind him of that. He feels fucking smitten, is what it is, and he keeps waiting for the feeling to settle into something else, but it never comes.

Three years ago, Seb wondered how sustainable it could be to feel about someone like this.

Man would that guy have been in for a surprise if he could see them now.

“Here,” Seb instructs, handing Chris the packed bowl, and removing the bottle of wine from his grip. “Take that, I’ll do this.”

Don’t have to ask Chris twice. He reaches for the lighter and wanders off to lay down on a lounge. Seb grabs two glasses - not wine glasses, but stupid plastic kid’s cups because nobody can be trusted with breakables on the pool tile - and empties a quarter of the wine into each.

By the time he crawls on top of Chris on the lounger, Chris is coughing and happy and stoned.

“Thanks babe,” Chris says, accepting the drink and handing over the bowl at the same time.

Seb steadies himself, sets his drink on the end table between the two loungers, and then sits back against Chris’s thighs. They’re both disgusting and still soaking wet from the pool, but it’s warm enough to not matter, and Seb’s got his eye on the jacuzzi in about seven minutes.

“Why are you even wearing these,” Chris groans, tugging at the tie of Seb’s swim shorts, dragging it down until he sees stubble.

Laughing, Seb takes a hit of the bowl and then holds his hands up, so Chris can pull him out of his shorts. He angles his lips to exhale the smoke back over his shoulder and then leans in to snag a kiss before he takes another hit.

“That one’s good,” Chris nods, holding Seb by the thighs and watching as he takes another hit, eyebrows knotted.

This time Seb leans forward, angles Chris’s mouth towards his with a hand on the base of his skull, and exhales slowly, trying not to let himself crack into a smile when Chris groans and inhales.

“You left my dick hanging out,” Seb laughs a minute later, as he sets the bowl down on the table and grabs his wine instead. With his other hand, he fixes the waistband of his swim shorts, pulling it up so he’s no longer flashing the security cameras.

Chris grins, sleepy and stoned, and closes his eyes.

“That was the point,” He says, and then makes a satisfied noise.

Relaxed, Seb leans forward at the hip, and kisses Chris again, laughing when he feels Chris’s fingers creep back down his stomach towards his dick.


	53. life is a test and i get bad marks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: Prompt, something goes bump in the night, cue Seb being an adorably afraid little woobie while Chris goes all protective beast mode searching the house :)](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145632064495/anon-asked-prompt-something-goes-bump-in-the)

“What the fuck was that?!” Seb hisses, elbowing Chris in the kidney.

Chris smacks his hands away and snaps, “ _Ow!_ Fuck!”

It takes a minute of shuffling to get the light on. In that time, there’s another thump downstairs. Both of them stop moving, staring at one another while they try and listen.

“Go see what it is,” Seb finally commands, yanking the blankets back and shoving at Chris’s arm.

Offended, Chris props himself up onto one elbow and goggles at Seb.

“I’m not fucking going!” He exclaims, even though he totally is because Seb’s already methodically removing the blankets from his side and placing them on his own. “Why do I have to go?!”

There’s another thump, this time louder to the bottom of the staircase that leads up to the second floor and their bedroom.

“I get the spiders and you get the home intruders, that’s the deal,” Seb intones, nodding.

Chris is already climbing up out of bed anyway, but sounds frazzled as he reaches for a pair of sweatpants and asks, “ _Who’s deal?!_ ”

On the bed, Seb shrugs in a way that says ‘that’s just the way it is,’ and nods towards their opened bedroom door again.

Of all the nights to have left Dodger in boarding. Chris knew they should have stopped and picked him up on their way home from the airport.

Chris frowns, fixes the waistband of the sweatpants, and starts towards the door. This is fine, he thinks to himself, edging around the doorframe. Totally fine. Maybe a boundary crossing fan broke in. Maybe it’s a raccoon.

Either way, he’s an adult. An adult man. He can handle this.

“Fuck,” He swears to himself, shaking his hands out as he starts down the stairs, towards where the banging is originating from. It sounds like it’s coming from the kitchen.

Night-time is scary. He catches his own reflection as he makes his way through the front hall, and is relieved to know that as freaked out as he is on the inside, outwardly he looks all tough and shit. The extra Cap muscles are especially helpful sometimes.

After a brief personal debate on the merit of grabbing a hockey stick before proceeding, Chris ultimately decides to go bare handed as he heads into the kitchen.

The kitchen is empty. The banging is really loud in here. Chris flips the overhead lights on.

“For fuck’s sake,” He grimaces. It’s the fucking sink.

He walks right over to the sink, lifts the tap, and runs the pipes for a minute. The banging peters out as the built up air pressure drains, and Chris laughs to himself, groaning.

It’s 3:23 am and he’s got so much adrenaline in his body he could punch through a solid board.

“What was it?!” Seb asks suddenly, making Chris jump.

He turns around to see Seb holding himself outside the kitchen, both hands on the doorframe, bracing his body so he doesn’t have to fully commit to entering the room.

“Pipes,” Chris answers simply.

Seb makes a ‘are you fucking kidding me’ face, and then laughs.


	54. I'm a national phenomenon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon also asked: Hi!! I was hoping I could contribute to your ever growing pile of prompts. I just love your writing so much!!! Anyway, I wondering if you could maybe write about chris meeting sebs parents, since we have seb meeting chris's family. Thank you
> 
> @just-tea-thanks: telling Seb's mom and step dad for the first time
> 
> anon also-also asked: seb bringing chris to meet his mother and stepdad for the first time? and u know how his stepdad & mom were both like worried he's gay when he was young so u can explore on that! thanks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I don’t really feel comfortable including Seb’s parents/fam in this to the level the Evanses are involved, just because they’re not as public as Chris’s family is.

Every conversation Seb has with his mother is a mystery to Chris.

Today, for example, Chris is hanging out on the couch with Dodger, trying to type out the remainder of an email he’s been meaning to send to his manager for weeks. Every time he looks at the laptop screen, Dodger paws at his leg.

“Buddy, come on,” Chris says, exasperated. He throws Dodger’s toy across the room, and instantly takes advantage of his thirty second reprieve by hurrying through another line: _I think I will be in Boston that week but I’m not sure yet._

He’s half listening to Dodger’s nails on the hardwood floor, and half concentrating on what he’s trying to type, when Seb wanders into the kitchen from the hallway.

Chris’s eye immediately strays from his laptop screen: Seb’s hair is everywhere, he’s on his phone, and he’s wearing the t-shirt Chris wore yesterday with a pair of white CKs.

No wonder Chris is in love with the guy.

The dog comes back with his toy, which he immediately drops in Chris’s lap, and patiently waits for Chris to toss again. Chris does so, listening to Seb as he moves around the kitchen and talks to whoever he’s on the phone with.

It’s gotta be his mom. Chris listens to the cadence and rhythm of Seb speaking Romanian, and automatically takes the toy off of Dodger when he brings it back again.

He doesn’t even pretend like he’s trying to finish his email anymore.

Seb goes on and on when he’s talking to his mom, laughing and yelling and pulling all kinds of crazy smiling faces that Chris could go the rest of his life seeing every day.

Today, Seb catches his eye and says a bunch of things Chris doesn’t understand. At one point, he says Chris’s name and throws him a wink.

“Hi,” Chris offers lamely, and then Seb says something that might be along the lines of _and Chris says hi, too._

Twenty minutes later Seb wanders over from the kitchen with a bowl of cereal, and sits on Chris’s lap.

“My mom said hi,” He says, glancing at Chris’s laptop screen and accidentally spilling a bit of milk over the lip of the bowl. “Are you working?”

Chris shakes his head and slides one hand up the back of Seb’s shirt, says, “Not anymore.”


	55. 7/4/16

Read the full-length fic here: [7/4/16](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7411538)


	56. we'll take it easy, tigers in a cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: How about various times Sebastian has been sitting on Chris’s lap?

“Hi baby,” Chris yells into the house, as he hears Seb get through the front door.

Around the deck, Chris’s friends are all gathered for dinner, but more importantly drinking.

Seb was supposed to get home earlier this afternoon, but after a delayed flight, he’s rolling in a little later than anticipated - historically they schedule enough time for a quick bone rather than leaving their reunion for public consumption.

Everyone prefers it that way.

“Hey guys,” Seb greets, coming out onto the deck with a smile already on his face.

He makes the rounds quickly, including stopping to watch some video Jeannie shows him, before looping back around to Chris.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Chris says, pulling Seb sideways into his lap. “How was your flight?”

Seb settles in easily, one arm steadying himself around the back of Chris’s shoulders.

“Long and boring,” he replies, wrinkling up his nose as he leans over to steal Chris’s beer.


	57. if nobody opens their mouth we have nothing to worry about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Sebi.

“There he is,” Chris grins, leaning closer to the screen.

Across the world, Seb smiles back and replies, “Hi. Thank you for the flowers, you’re gayer than I give you credit for sometimes.”

Chris laughs and flushes a little, then self consciously rubs at his face.

“Flowers are nice!” He manages, making Seb laugh. Seb, damn him, is fully smitten, despite having to red face it through a flower delivery at 8′o clock this morning. “Happy birthday, doll.”

“Thanks,” Seb smiles, before squinting and leaning closer, trying to see what’s going on in the background. “Why’s it so dark there?”

It’s 10 at night in Ireland, which makes it 5 back home. For the middle of August, it should definitely be brighter outside than that.

“I shut the curtains!” Chris exclaims, leaning back on the couch with one elbow to gesture at the windows behind him. As Chris leans back, Seb looks at his bare torso and stomach instead of what he’s actually pointing to. “Now it’s like we’re in the same timezone.”

Despite himself, Seb feels a grin break out over his face. What an idiot. What a terrible, charming idiot it is that he’s settled down with.

“I miss you,” Seb admits, leaning forward on one elbow. He angles the laptop screen again, so Chris’s face isn’t so backlit, and makes a noise when Chris leans back, so just his shoulders and head are in frame. “Hey, show me some more skin. It’s my birthday.”

Chris laughs and moves to stand up, which interrupts Dodger from his nap beside him.

On screen, Chris shows off the front of his sweatpants, and then turns around to get a butt shot in.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Seb grins, as Chris drops back down into the couch with a laugh. With the laptop on the coffee table between Chris’s knees, Seb gets a direct view of his crotch. “I miss that too.”

“I know you do,” Chris says, teasing. “But this was supposed to be a date, and I’m not that kinda girl.”

Giving Chris a ‘yeah yeah,’ Seb picks his laptop up and heads over to the bed, which is still unmade from this morning. He is a firm believer in the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign, forever and always.

“You can turn the lights on, you know,” Seb laughs, as he settles into one side of the bed with his laptop balanced on a knee. Once he gets comfortable against the pillows, he rests it on his stomach instead and adds, “They keep telling me this place is haunted.”

Chris immediately raises his eyebrows and asks, “With ghosts?!”

“What?! What else would it be haunted with?” Seb asks, frowning at the screen.

With a shrug, Chris leans over to turn on the lamp beside the couch, and then reaches for the television remote. Seb hears about a half a second of NFL Network before Chris mutes it.

“I don’t know,” Chris says, defending himself. “Have you seen anything scary?”

Seb makes another face and replies, “Other than my wardrobe, no.”

“What?” Chris laughs, scratching his pec and leaning forward at the waist. “Show me.”

Damnit. He’s well aware Seb has already taken about a hundred pictures of his two outfits, there’s no way to deny this now. Seb makes a long suffering face, and stretches over to grab his phone from the night stand.

“Look at me,” Seb sighs, selecting a picture and turning his phone around to show the screen to his webcam.

Chris immediately starts cracking up, and leans super close to the screen so he can get a better view. He replies, “Oh, yeah. You look like a real dick.”

“Hey!” Seb exclaims, tilting his phone just enough to get a finger in there and scroll to the next picture. It’s another mirror selfie, but it’s no better. “These are period appropriate suits.”

Still laughing, Chris says, “Uh huh,” and then cuts himself off with an, “Aw.”

“What?” Seb asks, immediately suspicious. He turns the phone around so he can see what picture it is that Chris is aw-ing at.

Unsurprisingly, it’s one of himself. He’s in a stylist’s chair with bleach foils in his hair, and he’s frowning. Classic Seb.

“Shut up,” Seb says automatically, but he’s also kind of smiling. As an afterthought, he leans forward to show off his newly lightened hair to the camera. “Check it out.”

It’s not easy to see over their semi low quality Facetime call, but Chris gets the general idea. This hair is the most committed Seb could get, aside from bleaching his whole head with Bucky right around the corner.

“Even with the hair, you’re still the hottest thing I’ve seen,” Chris reviews confidently, settling back against the couch.

His gaze drifts over the top line of the laptop to watch TV; Seb wants to give him shit, but honestly it’s nice to just hang out like they’re not five timezones apart.

It’s only been a week, but damned if Seb doesn’t miss that guy.

While Chris watches his Tom Brady jerk-off material, Seb continues flipping through his phone. It’s weird being this far ahead of everyone he knows, but it’s also kind of nice.

Yawning, Seb settles back into the pillows, and tugs his laptop up his chest until Chris has a super attractive view of his chin.

“I was thinking,” Chris says after a while - Seb figures it’s a commercial break, and looks up from reading the birthday comments on his Instagram. “When you’re back, we should take off for a couple days.”

Seb grins and folds both arms up behind his head, phone still in one hand.

“Oh yeah?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. “Where are you taking me?”

Chris smiles back, but pretends like he’s thinking and taps one finger against his mouth as he ‘hmmms.’ Seb just watches, grinning, and totally fucking taken.

“I might have to keep it a surprise,” Chris finally says, which means he can’t think of a place on the spot.

Seb laughs, then demands, “Swear to me it’s not Anaheim.”

“It’s not Anaheim,” Chris replies immediately, but Seb doesn’t know if that’s true.

He’s definitely going to have to make sure that doesn’t happen. Seb makes a suspicious face, and adds, “Or Florida.”

“Or Florida!” Chris cracks up, rolling his eyes.

After pretending to consider it for another minute, Seb finally concedes and replies, “Alright. I guess I’ll go with you, then.”

“Thank you,” Chris replies solemnly. “You’re very kind to your fans.”

That makes Seb laugh again.

They hang out until after midnight, when Seb’s birthday is officially over and he’s got about five hours to sleep before he’s got to be back on set for an early morning shoot.

“Alright, babe, miss you, love you, call you tomorrow,” Chris rattles off - their standard shorthand while in different countries or on opposite coasts.

Seb nods and yawns, then adds in a, “You know, a birthday dick pic never hurt anyone,” before they end the call.

He’s laying in the dark ten minutes later when his phone vibrates against the night stand again. Half rolling over, Seb reaches for it, one eye open, and thumbs at the picture.

 _Happy birthday to me,_ he replies, followed by a string of open mouthed emojis.


	58. sunday

Read full length fic: [Sunday](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8022961)


	59. last chance to lose your keys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: do you think you could write a fic where chris has a nightmare or something about seb and when he wakes up seb isn't there (he's walking dodger or something) and so he thinks it was real? your fork and knife verse is amazing! ](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/149690800585/anon-asked-do-you-think-you-could-write-a-fic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much!

Seb doesn’t realize Chris has taken a fucking ambien until it’s too late.

“What the... fuck are you doing?” Seb asks, bewildered, as he looks up from his laptop screen.

Across the room, Chris is naked and trying to put a pair of shoes in the oven.

“Looking. We’re sleeping at your parents,” he says confidently, albeit with a perfectly creepy and monotone voice. “They gave us ten nights of sleep.”

That’s - well. That’s something. Seb closes his laptop halfway, eyes the TV rerun of Friends he’s been putting off changing for the last fifteen minutes, and then looks back over at Chris.

Chris is now rummaging through a drawer, expression drawn down into a frown.

“Do you want... help?” Seb asks, unsure of whether he should get up and assist or not.

Chris tripping on ambien is nothing new. He doesn’t take it often - usually only when he has to make a quick timezone switch - but when he does, there’s no telling what level of babysitting will be required.

Two notable examples include:

When they were in Beijing earlier this year, Seb was witness to him taking one, and getting a perfect nine hours of sleep. On the other hand, he has also heard stories of Chris blacking out and ordering $700 worth of ‘Live Laugh Love’ wall decals from Walmart.com.

Seb still owes Scott a drink for relaying that story.

“Chris,” Seb tries again, laughing. He closes his laptop fully, sets it on the coffee table, and climbs out of the couch cushions.

It isn’t until Seb reaches the kitchen that he realizes Chris has written himself a note. It says, in painstakingly printed letters: _we nneed some sause_

“Babe,” he cracks up, pulling Chris’s hand out of the drawer. “Bed, c’mon.”

Seb’s still trying to switch back from Dublin time, and was planning on reading shit on the internet until at least 2AM, but keeping an eye on Chris’s comings and goings upstairs will be much easier than trying to herd cats down here.

The worst possible scenario is definitely Chris getting outside and wandering around the Hollywood Hills blacked out and bare ass naked.

It takes the better part of half an hour to turn all the lights out, make sure the security alarm is set, take the shoes back out of the oven, and get Chris upstairs. Every time Seb turns something off, Chris turns it back on.

“Up,” Seb commands, shoving him towards the stairs with a hand in the middle of his back.

~

The next morning, Seb feels Chris wake up with a start.

“Fuck,” he swears immediately, voice rough, tired. Hungover.

Even though his eyes feel gritty with exhaustion, Seb pushes himself up onto one elbow, and peers down at Chris.

“Morning,” Seb greets. He knows his hair probably looks crazy, and maybe his face a little too.

Chris is already staring back at him glassy-eyed, still tired - definitely didn’t get a good night’s sleep, then - and clearly a little disoriented.

“I took a sleeping pill, didn’t I?” Chris groans, sounding pained about it.

Snorting, Seb shifts his weight, angling his hips in Chris’s direction, and nods.

“You became concerned I had been kidnapped,” he explains, raising his eyebrows, gaze flickering over to the brightening windows as he fights back a smile. “You were trying to leave me notes.”

Chris laughs and groans and covers his face with both hands.

“Notes?” he asks, even though he doesn’t look like he really wants to know.

Despite himself, Seb starts laughing again. He nods and explains, “You had a very elaborate conspiracy story going.”

“Fuck, sorry,” Chris groans, shifting around to look over one shoulder and angle for the alarm clock. “What time did I go back to sleep?”

Seb rolls closer, and gets comfortable in the crook of Chris’s armpit.

“Like four hours ago,” he yawns. “I wanna sleep more.”

Nodding, Chris lets out one more embarrassed sigh, and presses a kiss to the top of Seb’s head.


	60. monster mash - 2016

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2016](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19087444)


	61. monster mash - 2016, pt. 2

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2016, pt. 2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19292797)


	62. a crown of gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: For fork and knife: Chris turning into a lumberjack when not working and Mackie making fun of him but Seb totally loving Chris being all manly and some sexy time.](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/146281288050/anon-asked-for-fork-and-knife-chris-turning-into)

It’s been six months since the promo machine for the third movie ended; it’s Christmas, now, but you’d never know that being in LA.

“I’m doing my shopping online, man,” Chris sighs, stretching his legs out underneath the patio table. He leans back and adds, “No fucking around this year.”

Mackie laughs and snags the waitresses attention for another round of drinks.

“You better hurry it up then,” He says, settling back in his chair with both hands folded over his stomach. “You got one week left.”

Frowning, Seb reaches for the bowl of mixed fruit, and raises his eyebrows. He says, “Amazon Prime, man.”

“You let this boy buy your Christmas gift on AMAZON PRIME?!” Mackie cackles, pointing one finger across the table at Chris.

Chris laughs, groans, and tilts his head back so he can cover his eyes with one hand.

“Hey, I’m easy,” Seb shrugs, forking a huge chunk of pineapple. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

With a happy grin, Chris waits for the waitress to bring them another round of sangria - his choice, not Mackie’s, Mackie would like the record to state - before continuing.

“My gift this year is my beard,” Chris laughs, bringing one hand up to scratch through the hair on his chin.

“I do love the beard,” Seb nods, making an agreeable face. He also reaches over to steal a piece of Chris’s waffle. Which is Chris’s Christmas gift to himself this year.

“I’m sure you do,” Mackie says diplomatically, clearly not interested in hearing anything else about it. “We still on for golf tomorrow?”

Chris nods immediately: one of the many benefits to spending any amount of time in LA is access to year round golfing.

“You in, seabass?” Mackie asks, raising his eyebrows over the rim of his drink.

Seb finishes chewing. He knots his eyebrows like he’s pretending to think about it, and then finally says, “Yeah, yeah I am.”

The gross part is that Chris watches the whole thing with a big, stupid, smile on his face.

~

The two of them get back to the house a couple hours later.

Chris ended up buzzed after lunch with Mackie, which is how they ended up at the Grove for two hours, looking at Christmas lights and doing a little shopping for Chris’s family. It was a mess of festivity, and Seb now regrets it deeply.

Chris drops the two bags of kid presents they bought in the hallway, and kicks his sneakers off.

“Very strange without the dog,” Seb comments, tossing his sunglasses onto the front entry table.

It’s bizarre, actually, crazy how the absence of one animal can make the whole house seem quiet and empty. It’ll be good to get him back from Chris’s sister after the holidays are over, and they’ll be in one place for more than a couple nights.

“Yeah,” Chris sighs, as Seb starts poking through their mail.

Spending time in LA is weird. Things like this just happen here: the mail appears inside as if by magic, and they never have to clean anything.

Chris makes a soft noise that says _it’s 3PM and I’m already hungover_ , and steps up behind Seb, wrapping his arms around Seb’s waist and nosing at the shell of Seb’s ear.

“I can’t believe it’s 2016 and I’m sorting my mail like some kind of pauper,” Seb jokes, in that monotone, dry way that anyone else might mistake for a genuine complaint.

It makes Chris laugh, though. He grins and rubs his face against the side of Seb’s neck, cracking up even more when Seb makes a noise and immediately leans away.

“You're gonna get me all roughed up,” Seb complains, but ends up laughing when Chris really gets to rubbing his face along Seb’s jawline and the side of his neck. 

Chris make an agreeable noise, tugs Seb away from the table, and manhandles him towards the stairs.

~

In bed, Seb stares down at Chris openly, panting and wide-eyed.

“Fuck,” He swears, watching as Chris sucks his way down Seb’s chest, pausing to tongue at his nipple and play bite into his pec. Seb groans and tilts his head back, says to the ceiling, “That’s my move.”

Chris laughs against Seb’s skin, voice deep and a little rough from drinking and ranting about Christmas decorations earlier, and then sucks a wet, open mouthed kiss into the tender skin right underneath where he bit.

It feels fucking good. Seb rests one hand against the top of Chris’s head and arches up into his mouth.

His skin is already all pink where Chris has burnt him with his beard. Seb’s going on a few weeks without a tan, now, it being not only the middle of winter but off-shoot season, as well. It makes it really obvious when he gets a scrape or a mark, and Chris is taking full advantage of that.

It kinda gets Seb fired up, too, thinking about golfing with Mackie tomorrow and feeling the reminder of Chris’s beard all over his body. He’s not usually into that kinda thing, but the beard does intense shit to his head.

And also his dick.

Chris pulls back, and pushes himself up onto his knees between Seb’s open legs. He’s a fucking piece; sometimes Seb can’t figure out how they ended up like this, but he’d like to write a thank you card to whoever is responsible. With a grin, he reaches up and palms the grown out buzzcut on Chris’s head.

“Come on,” Chris murmurs, ignoring Seb’s hand.

Instead, he reaches out and tries to tug Seb up into a sitting position by the waist. Seb groans - he was happy to just lay on the bed and let Chris go to town on him - but allows himself to be manhandled anyways.

Chris kisses him again, moaning softly against Seb’s mouth, and then drops down against the mattress elbow first.

With an unimpressed look, Seb frowns down at Chris settling back against their pillows, and intones, “I see.”

Laughing, Chris pulls at Seb’s thigh as he adjusts himself on the mattress, pushing his body down a few inches so there’s some space between the top of his head and the headboard. 

“Hop on,” He grins.

Seb laughs, knocking Chris’s wandering hand away from his thigh as he gets up onto his knees. Once he’s looming over Chris he shakes his hair out - it’s starting to grow long again, principal photography starts in a few months - and straddles Chris’s waist.

“I see how it is,” Seb teases, bending down to kiss Chris properly, sucking against Chris’s bottom lip in a way that makes Chris groan and arch up into him. Seb adds, “Making me do all the work.”

Chris is panting, already getting riled up at the thought of what he wants Seb to do.

“Hey, that’s just a bonus,” He manages, eyes half closed as he watches Seb climb to his feet, heels sinking into the mattress as he walks up the bed. He stares up at Seb, mouth hanging open, and gets out, “The part I like involves you sitting on my face.”

Fuck, well, yeah - Seb can get behind that, too.

He grins and drops down onto his knees slowly, positioning himself so he’s sitting at the top part of Chris’s chest, with the backs of his thighs pressed against the tops of Chris’s shoulders.

And man, if Marvel could see them now.

When Seb looks down, all he can see is Chris from the chin up. Chris, who is clearly already struggling to control himself as he swallows and pants, eyelids fluttering and closing and trying to stay open.

When Seb feels Chris’s shoulder start working below his thigh, it’s pretty clear Chris is already jerking off.

Seb can’t help but groan at that. He pushes his cock forward against the stubble on Chris’s throat and thumbs at Chris’s open mouth, tugging him forward by his bottom teeth. Chris groans and tilts his head into it when Seb lets go to scratch through the beard.

Behind Seb, Chris lets go of his own dick to start thumbing at Seb’s ass instead, tugging him apart and pressing in. Seb groans softly, licks his bottom lip and pushes himself up to fully straddle Chris’s face.

Chris immediately groans, but it’s muffled. Above him, Seb swears and goes slack jawed. He holds onto the bed frame with both hands and moans as Chris tilts his head back and immediately starts fucking Seb with his tongue, panting and strung out as he eats Seb out like he’s dying for it.

Eyes rolling closed, Seb braces himself with his forearms against the bed, and grinds down against Chris’s mouth.

~

Mackie looks at them both suspiciously when they meet up in the golf course parking lot the next day.

“You look too happy,” He tells Chris, skeptically.

Chris is actually the worst liar Seb has ever met, including a number of small children. This fact remains true as Chris raises his eyebrows and makes a face, but can’t quite look Mackie in the eye.

“I keep my man satisfied,” Seb says off-handedly, testing his grip on the first club he pulls out of his set. He frowns in concentration and tries to keep a straight face as he twists his wrist, and tests the weight of the club out.

Mackie is horrified. All he says is, “You’re disgusting - you and this lumberjack are disgusting, get outta here.”

“Lumberjack?!” Chris laughs, as they start walking towards the two golf carts they rented for the day.

Chris is wearing a polo shirt probably two sizes too small and a snapback hat backwards. He’s a fucking meatball.

Seb follows behind them, half listening to their conversation, and half distracted as he watches Chris’s back muscles flexing underneath the pull of his shirt. As they walk Mackie laughs, throwing his head back as Chris yells and waves one arm out mid-way through his story.

Fuck, Seb thinks, fondly.


	63. a very merry christmas - 2016

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2016](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20330452)


	64. a very merry christmas - 2016, pt. 2

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2016, pt. 2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20450944)


	65. I wrote a message on my pillow that says, "Jesse, stay asleep in bed."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: ohhh can I make a fic request? Evanstan with Chris comforting/taking care of Seb for whatever reason. Like he has a bad dad/someone said something that made him feel bad/some other random reason. I'm a total sucker for cutesy crap like that.
> 
> @sparklingrocks also asked: I love your Evanstan series <3 I'm a sucker for h/c where one is badly injured/very sick while with the other and they can't get help immediately. Sick/injured Seeeeb???
> 
> anon also-also asked: Hi! Can I please request some seriously hurt Seb for your evanstan fics? Obvs he's fine in the end, but I love me somma that protective Chris. You're doing so fab with the prompts, eternally in ur debt
> 
> [Read it on tumblr here](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/149546758180/fork-and-knife-sick-seb)

“Oh my god,” Chris says, half asleep and trying to fumble the bedside lamp on when Seb wakes up puking.

From the other side of the bed, Seb waves Chris off, leaning over the side of the mattress so he can at least aim at the hardwood floor. Chris stays still, horrified, as he watches Seb’s body heave again, now just a dry, terrible noise.

For the first time in Chris’s adult life, he realizes he’s about to spend the next half an hour cleaning up puke that isn’t his.

“I’m alright,” Seb promises, but he’s still hacking and dry heaving, so that sounds like a lie.

Chris gently rubs Seb’s back until he groans, dropping his head to rest in one hand. Even from here, Chris can see he’s broken out into a flop sweat, hairline already damp.

“I’ll be right back,” Chris promises, before getting out of bed to go retrieve a roll of paper towels and a garbage bag.

If anything, the whole thing brings back weird memories of when Dodger was a puppy.

~

By the time morning rolls around approximately four hours later, Seb has puked twice more and Chris has taken to fretting instead of helping.

He gets back from an emergency 7/11 run - Gatorade and Dramamine - around six.

“Here,” He says, still dressed in his sneakers and hoodie as he hauls ass back through the bedroom door, cracking the bottle of Gatorade as he goes.

Seb startles awake, but lets Chris press the bottle into his hand. He lays there sadly for a minute, and then works up the energy to bring the bottle up to his mouth and suck back a few gulps.

“Try one of these, too,” Chris adds, popping a pill out of the foil packaging.

It might not stay down, but it’s worth trying. He might take one too, just for fun.

As Seb nurses the Gatorade, Chris strips back down to his sweatpants - which he went to the 7/11 wearing, thank you - and climbs back into bed. He doesn’t go dick out this time, just in case.

Before he falls back asleep, he sends Scott a disjointed text to cancel their breakfast plans.

~

Seb’s doing a little better when they wake up again around ten, but he’s still tender.

“I might puke on you,” He warns, as Chris slides up behind him, snugging his knees against the back of Seb’s, and resting his right arm along Seb’s chest.

Tucking his nose into the nape of Seb’s neck, he says, “That’s okay.”

“And I need a shower,” Seb adds, already drifting back asleep. That is not untrue, he smells like sweat and puke, and not the good sweat, the sick sweat.

Chris exhales, trying to relax after dealing with six hours of exorcism, and murmurs, “Yeah, you do.”

“Hey,” Seb replies, laughing tiredly. He tugs Chris’s arm closer to his chest, until he can rest his cheek against Chris’s hand, and adds, “Thanks for cleaning up my puke.”

Already half asleep, Chris manages a non-committal, “Mmm,” into the gross, greasy hair at the back of Seb’s head.


	66. friday the 13th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE
> 
> HAPPY FRIDAY THE 13TH

They’re in New York, it’s raining outside, and Chris is in bed.

“Ow, fuck,” Seb swears from across the room, half in the closet, and half out.

Nothing new there.

Stretching his legs out, Chris pushes the dog over a little, scratches his own belly, and thumbs the screen of his phone. He’s almost done with this _Who’s Your Celebrity Soulmate?_ quiz he found on Buzzfeed.

Even though it’s only a week and a half into the new year, 2017 is treating them right so far.

“How long are you staying after I leave?” Seb asks, shuffling backwards with another gigantic piece of luggage braced over his head. As an afterthought, he adds, “I feel like I already forgot something.”

Chris tilts his head to the side, and then brings a hand up to shield his eyes from the bedside lamp light when all it does is obscure Seb from his vision. He partially watches as Seb dumps the piece of luggage onto the floor, and, a little out of breath, steps over it.

“Maybe a week,” he replies, which is a fancy way of saying ‘I don’t know.’ “I can bring you something if you forget it. Atlanta isn’t that far away.”

It’s true. Chris will probably sneak down there for a weekend, anyway.

Seb smiles at him, and does a drive-by pat on Chris’s face as he journeys over to the bathroom for his toiletries.

Still comfortably in bed, Chris answers the last question, and waits a suspiciously long time as Buzzfeed spits out his result, which is… John Mayer.

Gross. John Mayer is not totally incorrect, but Chris was definitely tailoring his answers for someone sportier.

He takes a screenshot for prosperity, and then refreshes the page so he can do it again for Seb.

“Babe,” he calls, as Seb clatters around in the cabinet on the other side of the wall. “If you could be any animal, which one would you pick?”

There’s no hesitation before Seb calls back, “Lion.”

Chris scans the list, which feels like it should include lion - that seems like a reasonable animal to choose for a test of this magnitude - but comes up short.

He picked dog. Dog is always the easy, available choice.

“Okay, but what about out of a panda, cobra, bear, or dog?” he calls, as Seb comes back out of the bathroom with a zipped up toiletry bag in one hand, and a full size bottle of shampoo in the other. “Hey, I like that one.”

Seb frowns but considers the question, ignoring Chris’s shampoo complaint as he squints into the distance, thinking.

“Cobra,” he answers, just as confidently.

“Good one,” Chris nods, shifting a little as Seb reaches over for his sleep guard.

He taps the picture of a cobra, and scrolls down to the next question. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as Seb sets all his packables down on the mattress beside Chris’s leg. Below that, both of Seb’s pieces of luggage are flopped open on the floor, halfway packed.

After pausing to fold up a t-shirt and toss it into his clothes suitcase, Seb heads over to Chris’s dresser.

“I’m taking your sweatshirt,” he announces, kneeling down to rummage through the second to last drawer.

Distracted, Chris replies, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“This one,” Seb confirms, holding one of Chris’s sweatshirts out before he hesitates, and holds up a shitty old t-shirt too. “And this one.”

Chris squints, trying to figure out what it is he’s losing, and then nods.

“Sure. What is one thing you can’t live without,” he reads, accidentally making it into a sentence instead of a question. He took this quiz not even ten minutes ago, but to be honest, he’s still a little baked from earlier so some of these answers are new to him. “Chapstick, chocolate, lipstick?? or a notebook.”

Looking up from where he’s folding Chris’s t-shirt, Seb frowns and asks, “Why are you asking me these?!”

Without saying anything, Chris turns the phone screen around, and shows Seb it’s a quiz.

After a brief silence, Seb tosses Chris’s t-shirt into his luggage, and asks, “...what are my options again?”

“Chapstick, chocolate, lipstick, notebook,” Chris repeats, dutifully.

Seb cracks himself up as he replies, “Lipstick,” then, “No, notebook,” then, confidently, “No, lipstick.”

Even though Chris is not entertained at Sebastian’s flippant attitude towards this test, he lets it pass.

“Okay, next one - what movie always makes you cry?” he asks, crossing one ankle over the other, and tucking a hand up behind his head as he gives Seb his options, “Lion King, Land Before Time, Velveteen Rabbit, My Girl, or The Iron Giant?”

Seb is immediately suspicious, and Chris knows it. He narrows his eyes and asks, “What did you pick?”

Playing it cool, Chris casts a casual glance over, and then tries to keep a straight face as he says, “Iron Giant.”

“That’s a lie!” Seb exclaims, laughing even though he’s deeply serious. He points his deodorant in Chris’s direction, and accuses, “Velveteen Rabbit makes you tear up!”

“They’re all sad!” Chris exclaims back, earnest. “I didn’t want to think about it!”

Shaking his head, Seb tisks him a little bit, and then answers, “My Girl.”

Now it’s Chris’s turn to disapprove. He does a little frown and a head shake.

“Hey!” Seb laughs, defending himself, “That’s a sad movie!”

Chris definitely thinks dead dinosaur moms and lost childhood toys are sadder, but OKAY.

“Moving on,” he says instead, choosing to plow through, “What day were you born on?”

“You know my birthday,” Seb replies, giving him a what the fuck look. “It’s the same day of the month as yours.”

That’s true. Seb is totally his lucky thirteen.

Out loud, he says, “No no no,” and then turns his phone around again, so the options are available to Seb even though he probably can’t see them all the way over there. “The DAY.”

It takes another minute for Seb to get it. When he does, he settles back on his heels and squints up at the ceiling, eyes crinkling up as he rests his beardy chin on the ball of socks he was packing. He’s thinking hard; Chris can see the cogs turning from over here.

“I’m pretty sure it was a Friday,” he says eventually, “But you might wanna check that.”

That’s fair, Chris had to check his, too. He flips over to his calendar app, and scrolls all the way back to 1982.

Seb was right. In 1982, August 13th was a Friday.

A Friday.

“Whaaat,” Chris laughs, one hand immediately coming up for his boob. “Wait a minute, wait a _minute_!”

“What!” Seb exclaims, already kind of cracking up from Chris’s reaction alone. “What does it say!”

“You were born on Friday the 13th!” Chris explains, now halfway down the pillows. At the movement, Dodger picks himself up and does a circle before flopping back against the foot of the bed. “Oh god, Seb. _Seb!_ It makes so much sense now!”

Laughing despite himself, Seb walks up to the edge of the bed, and shoves at Chris’s knee.

“Hey, what are you getting at!” he teases, leaning over a bit. “I’m bad luck, or something?”

Chris grins up at Seb’s happy expression, and reaches to pat his cheek as he says, “You’re the best luck, babe.”

“Get out of here,” Seb replies softly, side-eyeing him a little even though he also leans down for a kiss.

It’s still a little weird to kiss Seb with so much beard between them. Once Chris shaves all his off for Cap, he is definitely going to be the one getting his skin marked up on the reg.

They kiss a few more times, and then Seb leaves him to it, with one more boob grope for the road.

As Seb empties the fat half of his wardrobe into its waiting suitcase, Chris finishes up the last couple questions, and then hits the results button.

When Seb’s quiz result gets displayed, Chris immediately starts laughing again.

“Seb,” Chris cackles, reaching one hand out.

Suspicious, Seb comes back over to the bed, and half climbs on, one knee at Chris’s hip.

“What!” he laughs, trying to grab for Chris’s phone, which Chris is inadvertently waving around in the air. “Let’s see!”

Without further hesitation, Chris holds the phone out, screen towards Seb.

Right there, in all its backlit, six inch glory, is a - frankly, poorly chosen - photo of Chris, and the words YOU GOT: CHRIS EVANS.

If that isn’t romantic, Chris doesn’t know what is.

“You’d choose me anywhere, huh babe?” he grins, still cracking up a little as he turns the phone back towards himself, and reads the little description that comes along with the result.

“I didn’t know!” Seb argues, hand loose around Chris’s wrist. “I didn’t know it was for soulmates!”

He’s clearly lightly salted about it, but, Chris also knows that, deep down, he secretly likes it.

“Don’t worry, doll,” he says confidently, looking up at Seb’s face. “I won’t tell anyone.”

That might be a lie. This is exactly the kind of anecdote Chris loves to tell when he’s had a few.

Seb, clearly realizing this as well, grimaces back, and says, “Ugh, the lipstick probably put me over the edge.”

Chris starts laughing again, though he does manage a passionate, “Hey!” as Seb crawls on top, flops down, and steals his phone. He clearly wants to see what his other options were, as he scrolls down to the comments section to read everyone else’s results.

Happy to lay there, Chris smiles up at the ceiling, one hand in Seb’s hair, the other still tucked behind his head.

He’s gonna miss his dude for the next couple weeks, that’s for sure.

Seb tosses the phone to the side once he’s done investigating, and turns his attention back to Chris, tucking his elbows in under Chris’s armpits.

“You think you’re pretty cool,” he teases, resting both thumbs on either side of Chris’s mouth.

Grinning, Chris turns his head to kiss Seb’s fingers, and says, “I do alright.”

Seb laughs at him again and then leans down for a kiss, mouthing down Chris’s jaw once he’s done to settle into his side. It’s late, but it isn’t late enough to go to sleep. Chris is happy to ride the line regardless. He brings a hand up and rests it on Seb’s back, rubbing at his shoulder blade and then his side.

“I gotta finish,” Seb yawns eventually, nose bumping against Chris’s neck. “Lemme up.”

Shaking his head, Chris lets his eyes close, and tucks one hand into the waistband of Seb’s sweatpants.

“Not gonna happen,” he says, laughing when Seb purposely scratches him up with his beard.


	67. hold on to who you love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reference: Seb [on set](http://sebastiansource.tumblr.com/post/156050099924/sebastian-stan-on-set-for-i-tonya-in-atlanta-on) of I Tonya.

_Atlanta_

These jeans are almost as uncomfortable as the metal arm.

Grimacing, Seb readjusts his legs, and tries to give his dick some room. The crotch on these is so high it’s gonna split him in half. He smiles when a PA walks by, and then goes back to tugging at his thighs, hoping wardrobe doesn’t catch him.

Five minutes later, he’s watching the lighting guys reset when his phone starts vibrating in his pocket.

It’s a bad habit - he definitely should have left his phone in his trailer - but it’s also kind of worth it, because when he pulls it out and answers, he gets to see Chris’s face.

“Hey, what’s up?” he greets, smiling. “I’m at work.”

Seb kind of forgot about his overly groomed mustache and fake nose until Chris says, “WOW, Seb.”

“Oh yeah, check me out,” he laughs, tilting his head from side to side so Chris gets the whole picture. “I’m a whole new me.”

“What’s happening there?” Chris asks, holding his phone close and squinting at the screen. “Different nose?”

Seb scrunches his nose up - it works, but it’s not as effective as it could be - and confirms, “New nose.”

“Wow,” Chris says again, scratching his chest. It’s pretty obvious he just woke up. “Can you smell?”

Frowning, Seb grimaces down at the camera, and says, “Of course I can smell. This is 2017, you think they’re gluing hard plastic to my face?”

Chris starts laughing. When Seb just grins back at him, he shrugs a little, one hand flopping at the wrist as he makes a noise and manages an, “I don’t know!”

They talk about nothing in particular - next week’s Patriots game, the car tire Chris had to fix yesterday, and the first couple of nights Seb spent at his hotel - until the cameras are ready, and Seb is called back to set.

“I’ll call you later,” Seb promises, already getting out of his chair. “Probably around nine.”

“Sure,” Chris nods, and then, without thinking, adds a, “Bye babe.”

The volume on Seb’s phone is not loud enough for anyone to overhear - theoretically - but Chris’s kneejerk OOPS face makes Seb laugh anyway.

“Bye,” he adds, hanging up with a grin.

~

It’s definitely after nine by the time Seb calls back.

After looking at himself in the bathroom mirror - even without the prosthetic nose and makeup, it’s still weird having this Mario Bros. mustache on his face - Seb turns on a podcast, and has a quick shower.

It’s another twenty minutes after that when he calls Chris, still a little damp as he wraps a towel around his waist and sits down on the unmade side of his bed. He always puts the no thank you sign on his door, and this morning was no different.

When Chris answers the Facetime call, he’s laying on a recliner in the backyard, smoking.

The up and towards the chin angle is not exactly Chris’s greatest, but Seb smiles anyway.

“Hey,” Chris greets, reaching up and out of frame to set his joint in what Seb suspects is the ashtray. He gets right to it, and says, “I might be able to sneak down there for a couple days.”

Snorting, Seb adjusts his pillows a little, and says, “Don’t bother.”

Chris doesn’t verbally reply, but he does get that distinct look on his face that says he’s been caught off-guard.

“That photographer guy is creeping around again,” Seb explains, looking at his little corner of the Facetime window as he tries to arrange his damp hair into something that isn’t too crazy looking. “Pretty sure he figured out my hotel.”

Immediately fired up, Chris frowns and says, passionate, “That’s not right.”

“Tell me about it,” Seb replies, laughing a little. If he thought Instagram campaigns for his attention were bad, he can only imagine what will happen if a picture of him leaving his hotel ends up online. He’s not interested in seeing a moderately sized group of teenagers waiting for him outside the lobby. He considers this, and finally settles on saying, “An appearance from Chris Evans would be unwise.”

Chris is not satisfied with that. It takes ten minutes of arguing before they settle on Chris getting a separate hotel on the other side of town, far away from set or anyone who might see them.

Even after they come to an agreement, Seb can tell Chris has not said all he’s gonna say, so he adds, “Listen, I promise I’m safe, and it’ll be fine.”

“Seb,” Chris sighs, but it does take some of the fired up wind out of his sail. After a moment of consideration, he frowns at the screen, and says, “I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“I know you do,” Seb replies, climbing back out of bed. “I worry about you, too.”

Chris makes a ‘hmm’ noise, still thinking things over as Seb sets his phone down on the TV stand to switch from his towel to his undies.

As Seb is bending over to pick his phone back up, Chris laughs and says, “Damn, the towel and the mustache were really doing it for me.”

Cracking up, Seb manages to pull it together long enough to do an extreme close-up of his mouth.

“Forget it,” Chris laughs, trying to dodge the blurry mustache coming his way, “Forget I said it!”

Seb takes the opportunity to do a couple of overly wet, sucky kisses, mostly to try and creep him out.

“Oh god, you look like Borat,” Chris cackles.

“Gross!” Seb exclaims, immediately breaking character. “Nobody likes Borat, shut up.”

“Borat is funny!” Chris replies, clearly as a kneejerk reaction. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he reconsiders, squinting off to the side in thought as he adds, “Wait, maybe I’m thinking of the other guy.”

Grabbing the room service menu off the desk, Seb stumbles back into bed, and says, honest, “I can’t have this conversation with you right now.”

On-screen, Chris rummages around under his ass for his phone, their Facetime call taking a sudden violent jerk to the right as his laptop slides to the side.

Once Chris’s phone is in hand, he asks, “Siri, who is Borat?”

Now comfortably back in bed, Seb flips to the dinner page on the room service menu, and says, “Babe, can you do that later?”

“One sec,” Chris frowns, as Siri replies, “I found an entry about Bora Bora on Wikipedia. Shall I read it to you?”

Chris swears and slides his phone open properly, brightness going from a blue blur across the lower half of his face, to a dim light in the darkness of their LA backyard.

“Babe,” Seb tries again, pushing the dinner menu to the side, and flopping over onto his back.

“Borat does have the mustache,” Chris confirms, eyebrows knotting as he reads whatever it is he’s looking at on his phone. “I was definitely thinking of the other one, though, the one where he’s the fashion guy.”

Honestly, Seb has been dealing with a bit of a boner since he was in the shower. Jerking off was definitely on his mind then, but he decided to wait for Chris. Now, Chris is stoned and on a Google quest that leads to nowhere.

Seb pushes his CKs down until half of his dick is exposed, and then holds his phone up.

And waits.

“Anyway, I guess I got them mixed up because it’s the same guy who - ” Chris cuts himself off instantly, gaze going all unfocused the second he sets his eyes upon Seb’s half hard-on. Seb grins when one of Chris’s hands immediately reaches around the side of the laptop, presumably to grab at his dick. “Jesus, baby.”

Pushing his hips up off the mattress a little, Seb raises his eyebrows, and says, “You should probably head inside.”

“Oh yeah, absolutely, okay,” Chris replies immediately, already halfway up off the recliner. His phone drops off his lap and lands on the recliner, still lit up and on the Google Search results page. “Fuck.”

It takes Chris a minute to get his shit together - he stubs the remainder of his joint out, and leaves his beer half abandoned on the table - and then he’s heading inside, boob and necklace bouncing as he goes.

Seb watches, resting his free hand on the outside of his underwear.

He’s already mostly hard; he hasn’t gone this long without a bone in over a month, and the schedule since he got to Atlanta has been killer. This is the first night he’s done much other than fall into his bed and sleep.

“I miss you,” he says, half distracted but unable to stop himself. His hand squeezes around his dick.

All he can see is Chris from the nose down, but he smiles, and it’s warm and familiar.

“Tell me about it,” he says softly, making it all the way into the kitchen before he gives in and sets the laptop on the island counter. He angles the screen how he wants it, and then says, “I always miss you. Now show me your dick.”

Seb laughs, head tilting back against the pillow as he groans and starts to feel himself up a little.

On-screen, Chris’s pecs are all pressed together with the angle he’s sitting on the stool. He’s watching Seb intently, eyelashes giving him away as his gaze flicks from the top of his laptop screen to the bottom. When Seb gets a particularly good rub in, he makes a not fully intentional breathy noise, and arches up into his hand.

“Babe,” Seb pants, giving in and sliding his hand down the flat of his stomach and into his underwear.

Chris groans a little and leans forward, arm moving like he’s trying to get his hand into his sweatpants.

“Fuck, Seb,” Chris says, eyes squeezing shut for a second when he presumably gets a hand on his dick.

Properly jerking off now, Seb widens his legs a little more, and manages, “Ugh, show me - push your laptop back, tilt the screen down.”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees immediately, standing up. “Take those off.”

Seb isn’t one to turn down a request like that. He even manages to do it without dropping his phone, which he’s still holding at a weird angle over his hips.

When he gets back to the screen, Chris is holding his dick through his sweatpants, so Seb can see the outline of it. Without intending to, Seb grunts, eyebrows knotting together as one heel digs into the mattress, hips thrusting up, dick in hand.

Chris is running a two-handed operation as opposed to Seb’s one. He pushes down the waistband of his sweats with one hand, and wraps the other around himself properly. Jesus, that’s a good dick. That’s Seb’s favorite dick.

Seb makes it through a couple minutes of watching that before he comes. He jerks off all over himself without thinking, out of breath and definitely a little starry-eyed.

By the time he’s finishing, flopped back against the pillows covered in sweat and come, Chris gives in and comes with a moan, head dropping as all the muscles in his chest and abdomen tighten.

Seb lays there panting for a few minutes, before Chris makes a noise and says, “Oh god, gross.”

Laughing, Seb straightens out his dick and tries to wipe himself up a little.

Throwing his CKs across the room, in the general direction of his ongoing dirty laundry pile, Seb goes back to their Facetime call, and watches as Chris wipes himself off with his sweatpants, and then leans across the kitchen island, reaching for the paper towel to wipe the side of the counter off.

“People sit there to eat, you’re gross,” Seb laughs, scratching at his chest.

Laughing tiredly, Chris makes a noise and then replies, “Like I haven’t eaten you here.”

Oh god, Chris is not exactly wrong. Seb cracks up at that some more, and then groans again, flopping one arm across the bed as he feels around for his forgotten room service menu.

“You’re the worst,” Seb finally announces, even though he’s still smiling a little.

Chris grins back and replies, “I’m definitely checking into the secret hotel, now.”

“Oh yeah, come on over,” Seb teases, flipping open the menu. “I’ll give you a mustache ride.”

Laughing, Chris politely declines with a, “No thank you.”

“Yeah right,” Seb replies, giving Chris a sneaky look. “We’ll see what you say when you get here.”

Chris grins, cheeks flushed still, eyes bright and happy. They look at each other for a minute, both a little starstruck and dumb, until Chris has to break it to throw his crumpled up paper towel in the garbage.

“Time for a shower,” he yawns, rubbing at his belly as he walks back up to the laptop.

Across the country, Seb yawns too, a chain reaction, and agrees, “Yeah, I’m gonna eat and get some sleep.”

“Miss you,” Chris says again, and then, their usual more-than-a-day-apart, “Love you, call you tomorrow.”

“Night babe,” Seb smiles a little, propping his phone on his belly. “See you soon.”


	68. I've found the rewards weren't half what I'd hoped for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Sorry if you’ve been asked this before but what about sex toys?

Chris gets home to find Seb on the couch, elbow deep in awards show gift bag.

“Hey,” he greets, kneeling down to give Dodger a pet.

“Hi,” Seb replies, extending his arm out to offer up a flipped open box of chocolates. He shakes the box and adds, “These are weird.”

Laughing, Chris kicks his shoes off and walks over to the couch. As Dodger tries to climb up his leg, he snags one of the stupidly fancy truffle looking things out of the plastic.

“What else is in there?” he asks, biting the truffle in half. It barely lands on his tongue before he’s making a face and throwing the unbitten half back into the box. “Seb! What is that?”

Seb cracks up and reaches for the little stupid paper thing.

“It’s all french,” he shrugs, still chewing. As Chris pushes the dog back down - this really does taste so bad - Seb reaches for his coffee mug and hands it up, saying, “Here, spit.”

With a frown, Chris reaches for the gift bag, and says, “I already swallowed it.”

Seb gives him an ‘I bet you did’ face, and falls back into the couch cushions, caught up in reading a little pamphlet for some free trip or something else Chris equally doesn’t deserve.

Chris, on the other hand, gets side-tracked with a fancy looking phone case. He stands there, trying to figure out how to pop off the top part so he can slide his phone in, when Seb starts laughing again.

“What is THIS,” he cackles, and then Chris hears a distinct type of buzzing.

He looks away from his phone case, and starts laughing at the politely un-dick dick shaped item vibrating its way across the coffee table.

“Was that seriously in there?” Chris laughs, lifting up a foot to stop it from vibrate rolling itself right off the edge.

Still very entertained, Seb picks it up and asks, “Do you recognize it from my personal collection?”

“Your personal collection is some tight undies and a picture of me,” Chris replies off-handedly, stepping over Seb’s feet to get to the other side of the couch.

Laughing, Seb turns it up to its highest setting, and then leans over and touches the tip of it to Chris’s wrist bone.

“Ah! Don’t taze me!” Chris laughs, pushing Seb’s hand away.


	69. goodbye to sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: ur fork & knife series is my life blood honestly can i make a sneaky request for more chris tripping on ambien bc truly when i take it - i wake up the next morning with a bunch of confused texts from friends in reply to like a successions of six random pictures of a couch cushion i sent them and no memory of how that happened](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/158099093320/fork-and-knife-chris-ft-ambien)

Chris startles himself awake.

It takes him a minute to figure out what’s going on, but when he does, he realizes he’s in the living room, sitting naked on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, and a blanket draped over his lap.

Blinking tiredly, he rubs his face, and squints into the sun coming through the windows.

What the fuck is he doing down in the living room?

He doesn’t realize Seb is even in the room with him until Dodger notices he’s awake and wags his tail, drawing Chris’s attention to the other side of the couch, where Seb is still asleep with the dog tucked in behind his calves.

Seb is dead out, mouth wide open and face smushed into his pillow.

Yawning, Chris scratches his boob, and then climbs out of the couch, wrapping his blanket around his shoulders.

He manages to not knock anything off the coffee table as he stumbles his way over to the other couch, and gestures for Dodger to move. Dodger stares at him for a minute, giving him a cold gaze, but then jumps down and immediately heads over to the warm spot Chris left behind.

Chris yawns again, still a little drowsy, and steps up onto Seb’s couch cushions, awkwardly straddling Seb’s thighs for a minute until he manages to get down and wedge himself into the space between Seb’s back and the couch.

As soon as Chris bumps into him, Seb jerks awake, and is half way up off the couch before Chris even realizes what’s going on.

“Wait, what,” he says, because that’s the only thing that comes to mind.

Seb’s back muscles relax, but then he immediately twists around to glare down at Chris.

“Jesus, are you actually awake?” he asks, grimacing. Before Chris can even articulate a reply, he flops back down onto his elbow and says, “I thought you were trying to get out the front door again.”

Oh yeah, Chris definitely took an ambien before bed last night. That is the face of someone who is mad he had to wrangle a blacked out significant other, and also apparently take part in some 4AM babysitting.

Maybe Chris did something cute, like the time he went on and on about how Seb is a good man with kind eyes. But probably not.

“I’m me,” he frowns, getting an arm around Seb’s waist. “I tried to leave?”

Seb settles back in, reaching down to fix the blanket so it covers Chris, too. He definitely stole it from the bed.

“I didn’t know you took it, so I let you cook,” he explains, rolling his eyes. “You set off the fire alarm. Then you cried because you couldn’t find the flashlight.”

Laughing, Chris rests his forehead against Seb’s chest, and groans a little.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, settling in with his cheek on Seb’s boob. He doesn’t want to hear the tale of how he wound up naked, and why Seb had to sleep on the couch to make sure Chris didn’t take off. Instead, he looks up at Seb’s face, all jaw and stubble and chin from this angle, and asks, “Are you mad?”

Yawning, Seb rubs a little between Chris’s shoulders, and says, “I’m a little mad.”

“Yeah, you look a little mad,” Chris nods, laughing when Seb pinches him.


	70. los angeles

Read the full length fic: [Los Angeles](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10210772)


	71. across the sea the birds are free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: prompt!! seb getting him and chris matching NASA hats from when he visited NASA for the martian (presumably) or just him getting them both NASA hats thank you!

“Are you crying??”

Chris wipes his eyes with one hand and exclaims, “It’s a very thoughtful gift, Seb!”

“Not that thoughtful.” Seb laughs and kicks Chris’s butt a little. “I got one for myself too.”

“Ohhh I see how it is,” Chris jokes, smacking back when Seb’s bare feet start coming for his boobs. “Listen pal I spent too many years in matching outfits with Scott, I don’t need another decade of it.”

Seb manages to keep a straight face approximately halfway through saying back, “What makes you think we’ll make it through a whole decade?”

“You get no hats,” Chris laughs, almost knocking both of them off the couch. “I’m gonna steal yours and keep them both for myself.”

Out of breath and cackling, Seb manages to worm one hand out of Chris’s grasp, so he can knock down the brim of his hat. His face immediately disappears.

“I’m gonna steal all your money and also the dog,” he counters. “I gave you that hat as a distraction!”

“The dog would never,” is what Chris says out loud, but realistically, they both know there’s a very good chance he would.

Chris belatedly manages to fix his hat so he can at least see by knocking it against the back of the couch.

“Did you really get us matching hats?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” Seb pants, wiggling his arm out of Chris’s grip so he can slide his hand up the front of Chris’s tshirt instead. “Are you gonna cry again?”

Laughing, Chris rolls his weight to the side, so Seb can get at his pants, too, and says, “I think we both know the answer to that.”


	72. a trap for fools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Oh my god please carry on with the daddy prompt!!

It’s eleven in the morning, and Seb is bent over the end table in the living room as he tries to plug his phone charger back into the wall. He left one of his usual two back in Atlanta, and this is all the inspiration he needs to replace it ASAP.

Chris is sitting on the couch, laughing and kicking at Seb’s butt with his socked foot.

“Stop!” Seb laughs, trying to stretch his arm out that last extra inch. The outlet is JUST out of reach. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

Behind Seb, Chris pauses with the butt slapping long enough to say, “Yeah, plugging stuff in is hard, huh babe?”

Seb cracks up, and tries to reach around and smack Chris’s stupid foot away from his ass. He succeeds, but his smack radius is also so big he manages to knock a bunch of stuff off the table at the same time.

“Ahhhh,” he grimaces, listening as everything clatters to the wood floor.

Helpful as always, Chris cackles and says, “Aw yeah, bend over a bunch of times.”

Laughing some more at Chris playing the fool, Seb abandons his cord quest, and drops onto the couch to tackle Chris backwards instead. He knows all of Chris’s weak spots, and has him laid out and cracking up in about three seconds.

The pillow Seb holds over his face is just for fun.

“Hey! Hey!” Chris muffle-yells from under the cushion. “I’m bigger than you!”

Grinning, Seb lets up a little, and allows the cushion to go flying when Chris finally gets it smacked away. He was only under there for a minute, max, but he’s mega flushed from their minor struggle.

“Man, I almost got away with it,” Seb teases, trying to hold Chris’s wrists back against the couch. Chris is not wrong - he is definitely the bigger one out of the two of them at the moment. Not that Seb couldn’t still take him if the moment was right. “I almost had that sweet widower money!”

Chris laughs and grins up at Seb instead of trying to get his hands back. Then he flexes his biceps and says, “Oh, you’re gonna have to fight my mom for that.”

That joke is likely based in truth - not that Seb couldn’t take Lisa down, too - and he grins down at Chris for an extra second before pushing back up off the couch, using Chris’s big dumb head to steady himself.

Seb has picked up a lighter and a half used thing of batteries when Chris lands another smack to Seb’s left butt cheek, this time with his hand.

It doesn’t actually hurt, but Seb still laughs and exclaims, “Stop smacking me around!”

“I like watching your butt jiggle,” Chris replies easily, this time wiggling Seb’s butt around with his hand.

Stretching around the table, Seb secures the last fallen item - a thing of lube.

“Why the fuck was this on my end table?” he asks. The last time he saw this was about four hours ago in bed.

Chris yawns and scratches his chest through his t-shirt.

As he settles back into the couch, he says, “I jerked off while you were at the gym.”

“What are you, a prince?” Seb asks, making a face. He half turns around at the hip and launches it back in the direction of the bedroom. He does make it through the door frame, but it definitely hits floor rather than bed - he hears the bounce and clatter.

Squinting up at Seb, Chris replies, “I’m not jerking it like some pilgrim.”

Seb laughs as he resumes his original task of getting his phone charger plugged in.

As he glances back at Chris, he realizes Chris is taking a picture of his butt. Seb gives him a smirk and then bends over some more.

It’s actually way easier to get some extra reach in now that he doesn’t have to lean over a hundred knockable items. As he gets the plug successfully in the wall, he feels Chris poking at his ass again, trying to tug his sweatpants down with his toes.

“Get your foot out of my butt,” Seb laughs, plugging his phone into the charger, and setting it down on the freshly cleaned table.

He was down to a dangerous 3%.

“Hey, a lot of people want my foot in their butt,” Chris replies.

Cackling, Seb makes his way around the coffee table, and says, “Foot me, daddy.”

That gets a full boob grab laugh from Chris. Grinning at the reaction, Seb adjusts his sweatpants waistband that Chris managed to twist down about half an inch, and flops onto the couch beside him.

As he settles, his arm brushes against Chris’s dick.

“Smacking me around got you all boned up!” he accuses, laughing.

Holding both hands up, showcasing his dick with one on either side of it, Chris counters with, “Fastest boner in the east!”

Seb cracks up some more, and also threatens to reach for another smother pillow.


	73. shimmering like a penny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @allthesinglerobots asked: f&k prompt: they talk about the idea of having a 3some but end up laughing too much to get anywhere with it

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t bone two guys at the same time if given the opportunity?” Mike asks, giving Chris a face that says he better be getting on the two guys train, and quick. “Not even a little bit?”

Shrugging, Chris twists the cap off his beer, and settles back in the lawn chair.

“I’ve been propositioned,” is all he says, before taking a sip.

Mike boggles at him for a second, and then narrows his eyes and asks, “Guys or girls?”

“Girls,” Chris replies, laughing when Mike visibly almost has a stroke. He squints over Mike’s head and says, thoughtfully, “Not really my thing.”

Leaning back against the chair - hard - Mike says steels himself and says, “Not his thing. Jesus christ.”

Grinning some more, Chris shrugs, and goes back to his beer.

~

“Mike wants me to have a threesome with some girls,” Chris says later that night, as Seb is getting into bed.

Snorting, Seb asks, “Oh yeah? How’d that go for you?”

“He was pretty mad about it,” Chris laughs, pushing his pillow around until it’s a good shape to lay his head on. “I told him about those two girls in Vegas.”

Seb cracks up and says, “How any girl doesn’t clock that big gay face of yours immediately, I’ll never know.”

“I’m very manly,” Chris says seriously, snugging into his pillow some more.


	74. hold on to who you love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @allthesinglerobots asked: f&k prompt: let’s have some good old fashioned 69 hmm?
> 
> anon also asked: If it’s not a squick could you write docking or 69ing?
> 
> Sorry - this ended up as more of a 34.5!

It’s been a long week of travelling to and fro, and Seb takes advantage of his first full day off by getting his lounge on.

So far today, he’s lounged in bed after waking up. Then he moved to the couch, where he lasted about twenty minutes while Chris watched the news, which is when he headed outside to get a little bit of tan on. Now, a couple hours later, here he is spread across the bed with his feet hanging off Chris’s side.

Seb gets approximately five more minutes of peace before he hears Chris coming down the hallway.

It’s ten seconds after that when Chris greets him by laying his dick upon Seb’s forehead.

“Babe,” Seb laughs, trying to concentrate on the line of the article he was kind of skimming before Chris walked in.

Clearly very entertained with himself, Chris picks up his dick, laughs, and lets it flop back against Seb’s forehead again.

Stretching himself out, Seb tosses his phone to the side, and laughs some more at the sound of Chris cracking himself up. Out of curiosity, Seb leans his head back, and realizes that Chris is completely naked.

“When did you lose your pants?” Seb asks, eyeing him up.

“Hallway,” Chris answers simply, before promptly cutting himself off when Seb dips his head back, and opens his mouth against Chris’s dick. “Ah, babe.”

Seb knots his eyebrows and pushes himself up the bed a little, so he can tilt his head back more. When Chris starts getting hard and breathing funny, Seb pulls back to wrap a hand around him and warn, “Don’t come in my hair.”

Then he settles back down, and reaches for Chris’s ass so he can tug him forward.

Immediately in over his head, Chris groans and holds himself up with one hand on the edge of the bed. The other goes down to hold onto the base of his dick as Seb starts sucking upside down.

Seb is almost as good at acting as he is sucking dick.

“Ugh, Seb,” Chris pants a little while later, hunching over a bit. He rests his free hand on the side of Seb’s neck as he starts to move his hips, just a little bit at first and then more when Seb reaches back to encourage him with a hand on his ass.

There isn’t a lot that Seb can see from this angle, but even without the gift of sight, he can tell Chris is not gonna be long for this world.

Five minutes later, Seb is correct.


	75. 36

Read the full length fic: [36](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11194425)


	76. our lazy bones ache for our dowry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: For your fork and knife series, could you do something with baking pies or baking disasters? I can see them trying to bake a pie and getting distracted or forgetting about it in the oven!
> 
> anon also asked: hey i’d really love to see some quality makeout sessions and some weed thank u so much

“Smells good,” Seb comments, wandering into the kitchen.

At the counter, Chris glances back over one shoulder, and says, “It’s the weed.”

“No kidding,” Seb snorts, as he makes his way over to stand beside Chris.

Seb doesn’t really know much about making edibles - that has never exactly been his weed experience - but it looks like Chris has everything he needs to be a successful brownie baker.

“You gotta bake it first,” Chris explains, flipping the little pieces of weed he’s very carefully laid out on a baking pan. “That’s the trick.”

“Huh,” Seb says thoughtfully, wrapping his arms around Chris’s waist so he can watch over his shoulder. The last time Seb ate a weed brownie, it was his 25th birthday and he was dealing with a crazy hangover. 

As Chris studiously rotates each little clump, Seb hangs out, hands on Chris’s bare belly and his chin tucked over Chris’s shoulder.

“Now we put it back in,” Chris continues to narrate, ass bumping into Seb’s thighs as he bends over to put the tray back in the oven. Then he stands up again, brushing his hands together, and says, “Maybe another fifteen minutes.”

Seb has a pretty good idea how they can kill fifteen minutes.

Grinning, he slowly slides his arms around Chris’s neck and brings them together.

“You’re gonna distract me,” Chris smiles, as Seb leans in for a kiss. Against his mouth, Chris quietly adds, “You’re a menace.”

By the time Chris returns to his baking, Seb is a little boned up and handsy.

“Hey,” Chris laughs, as Seb strategically tugs Chris’s sweatpants down over his butt. With both of Chris’s hands gross from making the brownie mix, he has no choice but to continue forward butt out.

“Sorry, let me help you there,” Seb says seriously, cracking up when Chris drops his hips and wiggles them, trying to get the sweatpants back up.

He does pull them halfway back over Chris’s butt. But he also leaves his hands inside for fun.


	77. and so we watch the time we keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: prompt for f&k: either of them having an ‘wait oh shit’ moment the first time they see the other person’s closets bc they havent realised they have exactly the same fashion style and wardrobes /cough clothes sharing incidents cough

It turns out that thing about people morphing into each other once they’ve been in a relationship for a while is totally TRUE.

Seb’s dirty little secret is that he wears Chris’s Uggs when his feet are cold. His dirtier little secret is that he’s in a committed relationship with a guy who wears Uggs unironically as house slippers.

The Seb of ten years ago would have words for him, and possibly hands to throw.

He doesn’t even realize it’s happening until Jessica - a human he has known since he was just a tiny baby gay living in New Jersey - calls him out on it.

“What the fuck is that,” she grimaces, when Seb rolls up to brunch in a Boys Club tshirt and his leather jacket.

Laughing, he looks down at himself and then manages a, “Nothing! What?!”

The look she returns at him says more than her words ever could.


	78. married to the moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday Sebi!

_August 13, 2017_

Being in LA by himself is always kinda weird.

It’s cloudy outside today, too; overcast and strange, mild by New York standards, but cool enough to have everyone worried about rain here.

Seb likes it. It’s kind of a novelty to look out the windows and see anything other than bright blue skies. He’s laid out across the living room couch, laptop on his chest, and his Netflix episode paused on the TV.

He’s also trying to figure out what to order for breakfast, but there are too many choices.

“Waffles?” he asks the dog, frowning as he scrolls further down the page.

Dodger doesn’t answer him - he never does - just picks his head up from the couch cushion, and rest his tiny chin on the curve of Seb’s hip instead.

“Pancakes it is,” he agrees.

He’s maybe just a LITTLE BIT hungover. It’s a festive hangover. It’s a hangover that deserves lots and lots of carbs and sugar, so he chooses blueberry pancakes, and then adds some peaches on top. 

And then some bananas, too, because it’s his birthday and he can.

“Coffee,” he announces to himself, before clicking over to that category.

He’s waffling between something fancy, and something standard and black, when his phone, laptop, and the TV all start ringing at the same time. Fuck Apple, he thinks, swearing as he frantically tries to mute the TV and get his phone to shut up at the same time.

“Hi,” he greets, finally answering the Facetime call through his laptop.

Chris’s gigantic face comes onto the screen. He grins and says, “Hi. Happy birthday.”

“It’s somebody’s birthday?” Seb teases, temporarily minimizing Chris’s face so he can get his pancakes on the road. He clicks through the rest of the order blindly, just wanting to see some kind of order number, and opens Chris back up as his phone dings with the confirmation number. He looks at Dodger and asks, “Are you three?”

Dodger wags his tail, and inches up Seb’s side.

“I don’t like you anymore,” Chris laughs.

Seb grins back. At this angle, he can feel all his chins stacking up. He pets the dog’s head, and adjusts the angle of his laptop screen so Chris can see more of Dodger, too.

“Too bad,” Seb counters. “I was just going to propose we become friends or something.”

Eyebrows knotting, Chris agrees, “Nothing serious. Maybe something in the neighborhood of acquaintances?”

Seb grins some more. He can’t help saying, “I miss you a lot right now.”

“Me too, doll,” Chris replies, voice soft. He smiles at Seb’s hungover, badly angled face, and then catches something in the space above Seb’s head. Before Seb can tilt back to see what it is, Chris switches gears and teases, “Oooooooooo who are thoooose from?”

Laughing, Seb lifts one hand up, and tries to block the flowers on the dining room table behind him from view of the camera.

“Some fool,” he says. “I’m gonna steal all his money and run away with his gardener.”

Chris’s eyebrows jerk up his forehead as he cracks up and exclaims, “Hey!”

“And his dog!” Seb adds. That is a bold faced lie: he’s pretty sure if he tried to abscond with Dodger, Lisa herself would teleport to Manhattan just to knock the shit out of him and avenge her innocent son.

The only human on earth with buttons easier to push than Chris is his mother.

“Dodger would sell you out!” Chris laughs.

Scandalized, Seb covers up Dodger’s ear with one hand, and replies, “He would never.”

“Dodger!” Chris exclaims, really cracking up now as he leans close to the screen and tries to get the dog’s attention. “Pal!”

The dog totally knows Chris is talking to him. His ear moves a little under Seb’s hand, and his eye rolls open even though it’s all red and tired.

“He’s just a strange man,” Seb whispers to Dodger, trying to get his eye to close.

Dodger’s googly eye checks him out for a minute, and then, after figuring everything is business as usual, closes. He also takes the opportunity to roll over onto his back, little Disney cartoon legs kicking up into the air as he does so.

Laughing, Seb pets his chest a little, and then turns his attention back to the screen.

It’s about ten seconds after that where Chris starts looking all homesick and wistful.

“Hey bitch, it’s my birthday!” Seb exclaims, frowning. “Don’t make me sad!”

Chris frowns back and counters, “I could have come home for the weekend.”

Yes, he could have. There is currently no international law that bars Chris Evans from crossing country borders. Seb is also reasonably sure he could afford the cost of one plane ticket.

“Babe,” he sighs. “I miss you, but you’re gonna be here in two weeks!”

Chris briefly considers this. Then he grumps, “Still could have come back.”

“Don’t taint me with your sadness,” Seb tentatively jokes. Sometimes strong arming Chris into a better mood works; other times, Seb leans into the loneliness and lets himself miss Chris back.

But a smile starts to creep at the corner of Chris’s mouth.

Seb grins, too.

“Can you braid your hair for my birthday?” he asks, pushing through. That makes Chris laugh and rub his face. “Can I request two braids? Do you remember how to do french braids?”

This is an ongoing argument that veers into inside joke territory. Chris immediately bolsters himself and exclaims, “I never knew how to french braid! That was you!!”

Seb cracks up, and then puts on his most charming face, and changes the subject.

“Wanna be my birthday date?” he asks, making himself extra cute. “I have pancakes coming this way.”

Chris doesn’t answer, but he does stretch out of the frame, and come back with the hotel’s room service menu in one hand.

“What kind of pancakes are we talking?” he asks, flipping through the pages.

Grinning, Seb watches Chris’s squinty expression as he studies the menu, and says, feeling a little tight in the throat, “The usual.”


	79. don't be that joke that I told and told 'til it got old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: Hey,I love your Evanstan fics. Can I request daddy Chris and kid Seb kink? Chris did called Seb kid in TFA promo, but they obviously already fucking from that 2011 paparazzi video.](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145834382105/anon-asked-can-i-request-daddy-chris-and-kid-seb)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok ok ok, I’m bumping this one up so you guys can all stop freaking out hahah.
> 
> And THANK YOU for the prompt anon, I really had a lot of fun writing this and I hope it’s what you were wanting.

It’s 8:30 am and they’re supposed to be shooting, but something’s fucked up with one of the practical effects.

That’s how they end up killing time on Twitter.

“When’s seabass gonna start with the tweets, huh?” Mackie asks, kicked back on one side of the kitchenette table in Chris’s trailer. “What’s that gonna take?”

Seb, leaning against the counter opposite and eating right out of a bag of baby carrots, shrugs and says, “I don’t trust Twitter.”

Even though Chris is reading the script and not really paying attention to the conversation, he immediately starts laughing.

“What?” Mackie asks, looking between the two of them wearily. “No wait, maybe I don’t want to know.”

Chris laughs and tosses the script onto the couch beside him.

“I showed him my at replies,” He grins, lounging back and watching Seb, still standing there, frowning and eating baby carrots. Character bleed. “He never recovered.”

Mackie grimaces and asks, “What the fuck are you both talking about?”

“Fuck, hold on,” Chris laughs, patting himself down even though he’s still head to toe in his Cap uniform. “Where’s my phone?”

Cracking a baby carrot between his back molars, Seb points to Chris’s hoodie.

“I’m fifty percent sure I don’t want to see this,” Mackie says wearily, watching as Chris bounces up from the couch and over to where his hoodie is hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

Chris opens up his Twitter mentions and hands the phone to Mackie.

“It’s beautiful,” He cackles, watching as Mackie’s face turns from neutral to pure horror the further down he scrolls.

Pretty soon he’s laughing and covering half his face with one hand as he scrolls down Chris’s Twitter mentions with the other. He gets about four full scrolls in before he finally busts out laughing and reads out loud, “Fist me daddy please!”

“Anything for daddy,” Seb grins, and then opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else.

Before he can, Mackie cuts him off, “Don’t say whatever you want to say right now.”

“What?!” Seb laughs, totally fucking clocked. He chews the rest of the carrot in his mouth, lulling Mackie into a false sense of security, and then says, “He won’t even fist _me_.”

Mackie basically dies and comes back to life right in front of their eyes.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Chris is laughing, face red and covered with both hands.

Setting the carrots back on the counter, Seb grins.

~

They’re back at the hotel later that night. Chris’s back has been killing him since landing particularly hard on a crash pad this afternoon.

“Lay down,” Seb instructs, already peeling out of his clothes for a shower. He points to the hotel bed with his elbow.

Chris moans, cringing as he lifts his arm up to get out of his jacket, but does as he’s asked. He crawls on top of the bed covers and stretches out, cheek against the pillow and eyes already half closed.

“I’m fuckin tired,” He sighs, as Seb climbs on top of him and sits on his ass.

Tomorrow Seb’s looking at a stunt day pretty much from first shot to last; he completely understands how Chris’s body is feeling right now.

“Tell me if it hurts too much,” Seb says, as he starts massaging Chris’s back with his thumbs.

Chris immediately jerks underneath him, but promises, “That’s okay.”

“Alright,” Seb murmurs, leaning in to put some weight behind it. He lets his mind wander, zoning out, and after a while laughs to himself a little. Chris makes a curious noise, but doesn’t move his head from where it’s buried in the pillow. Still laughing, Seb explains, “Fist me daddy.”

Half asleep, Chris laughs tiredly, and manages to get his eyes partially open to reply, “Don’t forget the please.”

“Sorry,” Seb grins, thumbs trailing down Chris’s spine to his lumbar. “Fist me daddy. Please.”

Smiling into the pillow, Chris says, “Better.”

“I gotta get in on this Twitter action,” Seb sighs. “Gotta get me some daddy.”

That makes Chris laugh again, but halfway through it turns into a groan.

“Stop,” He manages, still stuck halfway between embarrassment and loving it.

Grinning, Seb settles back on Chris’s ass, and grinds his dick down into the small of Chris’s back a couple times. He teases, “I can be good for you, daddy.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Chris laughs, and then moans as he starts turning over onto his back. Seb eases up a little, braced over Chris’s lower half until Chris sighs and falls back against the mattress face-up.

Seb immediately reaches forward and palms Chris’s now half hard dick.

“You'd miss me too much," He teases, cracking up when Chris gives him a dirty look.


	80. the low fuel lights been on for days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: Seb taking care of Chris post panic attack? I don't know if that's something you feel comfortable writing but I would love to see that from the 'Knife & Fork' verse perspective.](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145795492360/anon-asked-seb-taking-care-of-chris-post-panic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Panic attacks are the wooooorst.

There’s usually a chain reaction that happens when Chris feels that first creeping tendril of anxiety in his chest.

The chain reaction isn’t complete until Chris is in an ativan coma and trying to distract himself with some kind of consumable media. Today, he’s playing Viva Pinata.

He’s been working on this fucking garden for years.

“Is that the bird thing you’ve been trying to get?” Seb asks, coming to sit next to Chris on the couch.

He settles in and kicks his bare feet up onto the coffee table.

“Pudgeon,” Chris replies, and then adds unnecessarily, “He’s a pigeon.”

Seb laughs a little at that, and leans a bit to rest his head against Chris’s shoulder. Seb has been watching Chris build this stupid video game pinata animal garden for years and god damn him, Seb is actually starting to understand what’s going on.

“Feel better?” He asks, watching Chris water a plot of seeds.

It’s kind of a rhetorical question, because he can feel how much Chris has relaxed just from the lack of tension in his upper arm.

“Yeah,” Chris answers anyways, and then frowns, “I can’t find this fucking snapdragon seed.”

Seb zones out, watching as Chris builds shit and plays mini games and makes his pinata animals have custom colors. The bottle of ativan is still sitting on the table in front of them, just in case.

Even though Seb doesn’t really understand anxiety, it’s fucking hell watching Chris deal with panic attacks when there’s nothing he can do about it.

“Do you want dinner?” Seb asks after a while.

Chris shakes his head and frowns.


	81. monster mash - 2017

Read the full length fic here: [monster mash - 2017](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19068826)


	82. it lit me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: chris and seb having problems because of their long distance since seb’s in ny and chris is in la?

It’s not easy.

It’s really not very easy to do what they do.

Chris rubs his face, tired, as he turns the treadmill on and starts into a slow jog. He doesn’t mind spending time in LA. There are worse places to be.

His phone starts buzzing around his fifth mile.

“Hey.” He picks up on the second ring. “Did you get my message?”

Seb’s everywhere. He hasn’t been home in weeks and, other than one brief meet-up when Chris was able to bend his schedule to swing by New York for a one-night-only event, they haven’t seen one another in a month.

“No, sorry,” Seb sighs. He sounds exhausted. Chris slows his pace until he’s walking, and then belatedly turns the treadmill off. “I got my phone taken away from me for the screening.”

“Ahh.” Chris wipes his face off with his shirt and wanders over to the windows to stare outside. “You almost done?”

Sighing again, Seb says, “Yeah. A couple more hours. I’m not complaining.”

“It wouldn’t matter if you were.” Chris presses his lips together, trying to bite his tongue. They’ve had this conversation a couple times already, and it’s the last thing they need to do when they’re on opposite sides of the country. “Do you need anything?”

Seb laughs weakly. “A drink and a fuck would be nice.”

“You got it babe,” Chris smiles, rubbing the back of his neck as he watches the road below him outside, on the other side of the window panes. “Sorry about earlier.”

Sighing, Seb makes a noise, and then pauses, and then manages, “I know. I’m sorry too. It’s just, I’m trying my best. I can’t be everywhere at once.”

“I know.” Chris doesn’t want him to be everywhere at once. He wants him to be here. “I get worried.”

Seb laughs, kind of, that thing you do when you recognize someone is talking about one of their bad habits but you don’t want to push the button.

“Oh, I know about that. Believe me,” he says, but now it sounds like he’s smiling. “I gotta get back. But I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

Chris nods. “Good luck, babe.”

“Miss you,” Seb replies, before hanging up.


	83. a very merry christmas - 2017

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2017](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20351953)


	84. Arizona

Read the full length fic: [Arizona](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13395786)


	85. you made the atom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Since it’s f&k’s anniversary, how about their anniversary? Like how they would spend it (if they would because tbh it seems like they would probably not give a big fuck lol) thanks!!!!! And congrats to one year whoop whoop

_February 2018_

Chris is happily stoned and rummaging around in the kitchen for a snack when he hears Seb unlock the front door.

That part of his brain that always does SEB goes on high alert. He drops the cold noodles he had been thinking about shame-eating over the sink, and shuts the fridge door.

“Where are you?” Seb calls from the hallway.

Chris has been wandering around New York like a lonely ghost for the last week and a half, that’s where he is.

“Kitchen!” Then he remembers his surprise, and opens the fridge back up. “Don’t come in!!”

Instead of mild intrigue, Seb calls back, “Is this my mail?”

“Yes!” He delicately picks up the cake box from the top shelf and sets it on the counter. “Sit down!”

Seb replies, “I haven’t seen you for a week!”

It’s true. They’ve been perfectly missing each other lately, and not on purpose like usual. Chris sucks some frosting off his thumb and jabs the last candle into the top of the cake.

“There’s half a bowl where I was sitting,” Chris calls back, patting himself down for a lighter. Aha. He flicks it and starts lighting candles, grimacing and switching hands when he burns himself.

By the time he’s carrying the cake out with both hands, being very careful not to drop it, Seb is freshly baked and rummaging through Chris’s bag of chips on the couch.

“What’s that?” he asks, even though for all intents and purposes it’s very obviously a cake.

Chris grins and dramatically sets it down on the coffee table beside where Seb put the bowl.

On the cake, in shaky, oh-my-God-Captain-America-is-ordering-custom-icing letters, are the words WORLD’S GREATEST GRANDMA.

Seb immediately starts to cackle.

“What!” He blows out the candles. “How did you get this?!”

Laughing, Chris stoops over the couch for a belated welcome-home kiss, and then explains, “‘Happy month late third anniversary’ would have been a little obvious.”

“You’re right,” Seb cackles, pulling Chris down by the front of his shirt. “This is much more believable.”


	86. coordinate brain and mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: Prompt: IW promo, The avengers go to Ellen Degeneres and Chris brings Dodger but the little bastard keeps wanting to kiss Sebastian](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145731920090/anon-asked-prompt-iw-promo-the-avengers-go-to)

_2018_

It’s not live TV, which is good.

But Ellen thinks it’s adorable, which is bad.

“He’s a real sweetheart,” Chris laughs, watching as Dodger does a circuit of the studio audience before making his way over to where they are on the stage.

Then the betrayal happens right in front of his eyes.

Chris is hunched forward a little bit, wedged between Seb and Mackie on the couch not big enough for three men. He holds his hand out, and wiggles his fingers, waiting for Dodger to come to him.

Dodger beelines for Seb instead.

 _Well_ , Chris thinks to himself, blanking. He never thought his dog would be the one to out him on national TV.

And Chris doesn’t mean to get weird about it, but he’s _totally getting weird about it_. He’s seen what happens on the internet. He knows those girls that follow his every move are going to clock this like the other things they’ve caught onto.

“Dodger,” He laughs, trying to tug Dodger away from between Seb’s legs without actually touching his legs, “Hey, buddy.”

Ellen knows. She totally fucking _knows_. She’s got that twinkle in her eye as she looks from the dog, still struggling to remain in Seb’s care, to Chris’s face - vaguely horrified - and then to Mackie, perfectly expressionless beside them.

“He’s a big Bucky fan,” She chuckles, reaching to pet Dodger on the head.

It’s all the opening Dodger needs to clamber up onto Seb’s lap, legs shaky for a minute while he manages to get himself turned around. He sits on Seb’s thigh and then makes like he’s going to lay down with his head on Chris’s lap.

 _You traitor_ , Chris thinks, now trying to contain the dog to Seb’s lap rather than have him stretched out across them both like a big happy family.

Which they are, but Chris doesn’t want _Ellen_ to know that.

“Everyone’s a Bucky fan,” Seb laughs easily, petting Dodger on the head. “It’s gotta be that arm, right?”

~

It’s not as bad as Chris remembers when they watch it back on TV.

Generally he makes it a rule not to watch or read his interviews after they’ve been given, but he makes an exception for this one.

They’ve edited a lot of the embarrassing shit out, for which Chris is eternally grateful and vows to send a letter of thanks to the Ellen production team. All that’s left is Dodger coming out, sniffing the audience, and then sitting at Chris’s feet like he finally got Dodger to do after five minutes of wrangling.

Now, Chris looks over at Dodger, spread out across the living room floor on his side. When the dog realizes Chris is looking, his tail thumps against the floor twice.

“I tooold you it would be fine,” Seb intones, sitting on the other end of the couch with his cereal bowl.

From his end, Chris frowns and jams his feet a couple of times into Seb’s ass.

“Hey,” Seb laughs, trying to smack Chris’s feet away and save his cereal at the same time, “I’m trying to eat here.”

As if on cue, Dodger pulls himself up off the floor and hurries over, wedging his face as best he can in-between Chris’s feet and Seb’s thigh. He licks Chris’s ankles and the sides of his feet, trying to contain him back to his end of the couch.

“He chose his side,” Seb continues, laughing as Chris psychs him out by lifting his foot again, “He knows what he likes!”

Dodger gets excited at the tone of voice Seb uses, and takes off to find his squeaky toy. By the time Chris and Seb have finished smacking each other around, which ends with Seb spilling milk all over himself, the sound of rhythmic squeaking is at an all time high in the other room.

“Would it have been that bad?” Seb asks a while later, after they’ve settled and his cereal bowl is empty on the coffee table with Chris stretched out over his lap.

Chris pauses, considering, and then looks up at Seb and shakes his head ‘no.’


	87. monster mash - 2018

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2018](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19317052)


	88. a very merry christmas - 2018

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2018](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20285767)


	89. I am on the mend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Evanstan attending cacw premire as a couple and everyone freaks bc they were not out
> 
> anon also asked: evanstan accidentally coming out during ca:cw press tour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I was going to hold onto this one for a while, but it turns out I’m actually gonna do the big ~COMING OUT fic now, because I have a couple more I want to write that would fall post outing in the F&K timeline.
> 
> I switched CA:CW to Infinity Wars 2, fyi.

_2019_

It’s Chicago in fall, so it’s overcast outside.

They’re at a hotel for two days of promo. Chris doesn’t know if it was the hotel’s doing or the studio’s, but someone brought them four massive trays of food for breakfast.

Despite waking up nervous, they sat in front of the floor to ceiling windows and ate quietly while looking out over the city.

At around 8:30 this morning, the sky was the same color as Seb’s eyes.

“Nervous?” Chris asks softly, fingers smoothing down over the knot in his tie.

Seb is on the bed behind him, sitting on the edge as he pulls his shoes on. He considers his answer for a moment, and then simply says just a, “Yeah.”

“Me too,” Chris replies, and then laughs, “My hands are sweaty.”

That brings a genuine smile to Seb’s face. He watches Chris for a moment, looking at the way his shoulders pull at the fabric of his suit, and then pushes himself up to stand behind Chris in the mirror.

He hooks his chin over Chris’s shoulder and stares at their reflection.

“You sure about this?” He asks, arching his eyebrows.

Chris doesn’t hesitate.

He answers, “Yes.”

~

The whole thing has been set up like a game of dominos.

Today they’re doing an interview with a writer who works for People Magazine, which Chris finds a little bourgeois, but will suit their intended purpose just fine.

“ _What?_ ” Seb laughs, in the elevator down to the writer’s hotel room. “What does that even mean?”

Chris has both hands in his suit pant pockets. He shrugs and says, “I remember my mom reading the issue that had Lance Bass on the cover. It’s just... safe.”

Which it is, but it’s safe on purpose. There’s an entire team of lawyers already down there, having the interviewer sign non-disclosure after non-disclosure before she even gets to see either of their faces. Chris doesn’t even know if she realizes who she’s interviewing.

Once they’re done here today, they’ll be on the cover four weeks from now; that night, the first movie premiere will be held in New York.

The most important piece of the puzzle is ensuring no information leaks between now and then. Marvel NDAs are not to be fucked with; cross one, and Chris is pretty sure you’ll be blacklisted from the whole industry.

Not that he’s ever wanted to test that theory out.

~

“Chris, Sebastian,” The interviewer greets, shaking their hands. “I’m Leah.”

Her cheeks are flushed. Chris would be overwhelmed in this situation, too.

“Nice to meet you, Leah,” Seb smiles warmly. “You can call me Seb.”

Chris is so preoccupied with his racing heart, he can only manage a tight smile and what he hopes is a friendly expression.

“Let’s take a seat,” She says, kind, before gesturing into the lounge area.

~

She’s shocked.

Chris can see it on her face; she tries to temper her expression, to be the consummate professional, but Chris sees the mask slip for a half second. Her eyes widen just a fraction, and her lips part.

And all Chris said was, “This is something we’ve been thinking about for a long time - and you know what? It’s fuckin scary!”

He doesn’t know what surprises her more: his admission, or the way he reaches to rest his arm along the back of Seb’s chair. Seb, without thinking, settles back into it.

The longer they sit here, facing the future, the easier it is.

“So this is new?” Leah asks, trying to regain her footing.

Now Chris grins ear to ear.

“Not at all,” He laughs.

~

 **PEOPLE:** You’ve both mentioned you waited until now to make this announcement. What was holding you back before? It couldn’t be an easy decision to make - not only are you going public with your sexuality, but you’re also confirming a relationship between two high profile actors.

CE: I think the only thing holding us back was ourselves.

SS: Yeah. It’s something we thought about for - for years, you know?

CE: (Nodding) Three years, almost.

SS: It’s not a decision you can take lightly. There’s always the very real possibility that something like this will completely sideline your career, no matter how well established you think it is. And, you know, when you come out, especially in a relationship with another actor, that relationship kind of gets put on a pedestal. Three years ago, or two years ago, I couldn’t imagine announcing we were together, and then having to issue some kind of separation statement a year later.

CE: That’s a good point. You gotta be sure about things, especially when - like, look. You have Ellen and Portia, you got NPH and his husband, and, you know, right now, that’s kind of it! There aren’t many high profile same sex celebrity couples, despite the fact that, you know, marriage and all that shit is legal now.

SS: It’s still considered career suicide.

CE: Yeah. Yeah, it’s - it’s heavy, man. So not only do you run the risk of ending your career, there’s also the very real possibility you’ll be used as kind of a...

SS: Ideal.

CE: Yeah, an ideal. Exactly. That’s a lot of pressure on any relationship.

 **PEOPLE:** What changed between then and now? It’s interesting to understand why going public now makes sense to you both, when three years ago you were both against it.

CE: I don’t know, man. Listen, the world’s a crazy fucking place. I have a lot of money in the bank. I’m at a good place in my life. If he (points to Stan) gets in a car accident tomorrow and ends up in the hospital, I don’t have the right to see him. It doesn’t matter who I am in the movies, or how much money I have to throw around. I used to pretend that shit didn’t scare me, but now just the fucking thought of it keeps me up at night sometimes.

SS: Yeah, it’s one thing to love someone, it’s another to put it on paper.

CE: Exactly. So, to answer your question - and sorry for how morbid this is gonna sound - if I die tomorrow, I don’t want the world to find out about our relationship because TMZ got copies of my will and insurance papers. We’re worth more than that.

SS: I can’t imagine that. God, could you imagine?

CE: (Firmly) No.

 **PEOPLE:** Are you worried this will have a negative impact on your careers?

SS: It’s weird, I don’t think about that anymore. It used to bother me, a lot, actually, but - you know, we work with some really cool people. I’m serious! They’re great. And even if every role I get for the rest of my life is ‘gay best friend’ or ‘gay school teacher,’ it doesn’t matter. Because I still have the things I’ve done. I’m a part of Bucky just like he’s a part of me.

CE: Yeah. It wouldn’t be that bad to be the gay guy for the rest of my career, anyway.

SS: For the _rest_ of your career?

CE: Don’t! Don’t say it. (Laughing) Oh my god, take that off the record.

~

They’re asleep in Manhattan when the issue hits newsstands.

With nowhere to be until the premiere tonight, they purposely left their cellphones on Do Not Disturb mode before going to bed. When Chris finally wakes up around 10, he’s in the exact same position he fell asleep in.

“I don’t know if I can look,” Seb grumbles against Chris’s bare chest, still sounding half asleep.

Laughing, Chris groans and stretches.

“I think I could go another hour without hearing the internet’s opinion of my personal life,” Chris agrees, rolling over. He makes a noise of contentment as he drapes himself half over Seb, and tucks his face into the side of Seb’s throat.

Seb yawns too, stretches out his legs, and hooks one arm around the back of Chris’s neck.

~

 **People Magazine** @people

PEOPLE Exclusive: Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan Reveal Their 3 Year Relationship _peoplema.g/BjSulW_

~

The movie premiere is a fucking circus.

In the town car on the way to the theatre, they have a conference call with both of their publicists and two guys from Marvel.

“Response on Twitter and social media is generally positive,” Chris’s publicist says. “For every ten trending hashtags, you guys are in six of them. There is some negative backlash, but you really have to look for it.”

Seb frowns, looks over at Chris and says, “That’s... good.”

“Let me guess,” Chris laughs, “All the bad stuff is directly related to Cap.”

This time Seb’s publicist answers. He says, “Most of it, yeah.”

“That’s alright,” Chris sighs. He looks over at Seb and adds, “We knew that.”

“We’re standing behind you both,” One of the guys from Marvel says. “This doesn’t change anything.”

As they pull up to the curb of the theatre, Seb says, “We just got to the carpet, we’ll have to talk about the rest tomorrow.”

“Have fun,” Both Chris and Seb’s publicists chorus.

Once they’ve hung up, straightened themselves out, and taken a deep breath, they sit there for a minute.

“This is it,” Seb grins, running a hand through his hair.

Beside him, Chris grins back, and says, “I’ve already taken my xanax. Let’s go.”

Seb’s laughter follows Chris out the car door.

~

Transcript of E! News:

 **E!:** Hey, hey! It’s Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan. How are you both tonight?

 **Chris:** We’re _wonderful._

 **Sebastian:** It’s a good night.

 **E!:** Can you talk a little about your People Magazine cover that came out today?

 **Sebastian:** I haven’t read it yet!

 **Chris:** Me neither. (Grins) Sorry, we haven’t read it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: I want to say a huge THANK YOU to everyone again who has read and liked and replied to these fics. It really means a lot to me.


	90. chew it up and swallow it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: Looooving your series so far! I'd love a story where Chris can't stop touching Seb's ass (he's an ass man after all) like wherever Seb is, Chris's hand is there.](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/146075907370/anon-asked-id-love-a-story-where-chris-cant)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a thing for Chris’s thing for Seb’s ass.

Post- _People_ , the world is a different place.

For weeks afterward, there are paparazzi everywhere. It doesn’t matter where they’re going or with whom. One French magazine publishes pictures of Chris and Scott with the caption Captain America actor, Chris Evans, enjoys lunch with his boyfriend Stan Sebastian.

Seb laughs and laughs and laughs, and sets the poorly taken picture his publicist sends him of the magazine as his phone background.

~

Today, they’re at a grocery store in LA. It’s not Whole Foods, just some random neighborhood co-op run by an Italian guy and his wife. Chris has been coming here for years, mainly because they always give him samples at the deli.

“Get one of those too,” Seb requests, pointing to a tray of spicy sausage.

Chris waves him off, already on his way to place their order. While he’s gone Seb hunches over the shopping cart handle and peruses the cheese section; he’s never really been a cheese guy, but he can appreciate some good feta.

He’s debating buying some when he feels a hand on his ass. It slides up to the small of his back, and then Chris leans forward to dump eight individually wrapped brown packages of food into the cart.

“I got some of that pecan ham, too, looked good,” He says, moving his hand back down to Seb’s ass. Seb resumes pushing the cart.

~

 _Throwback: Remember when Chris Evans admitted he’s an ass man? Well, 2019 has been kind to him so far in the butts category,_ Buzzfeed says the next day.

The article features four paparazzi photos taken in the Italian grocery store: Chris’s hand is on Seb’s ass in all of them.

~

The next morning, Seb wakes up in stages.

It’s so bizarre to not jerk awake to the sound of his alarm, that he doesn’t even realize he’s conscious until he feels Chris shift behind him. Stretching out, Seb makes a satisfied noise into his pillow and then turns over, eyes still mostly closed as he digs himself into Chris’s neck.

Chris yawns, a little awake, and moves one hand down to Seb’s ass. The other rests over his own junk.

“No work,” He grumbles happily, voice still a little rough from the amount of yelling he was doing at the TV last night. Seb makes an affirmative noise, and slides his hand over to knock Chris’s away from his dick.

Laughing tiredly, Chris groans and spreads his legs.

“Six months of this,” Seb grins, pulling Chris’s leg wider with the heel of his foot against Chris’s ankle. Chris nods, eyes closing again. 

It doesn’t take very long for Chris’s breath to start hitching on every inhale, soft sounds that huff out of him every time he lifts his hips up to meet Seb’s slowly jerking hand.

“I want,” Chris starts to say, but then he cuts himself off with a groan and just reaches for Seb’s ass, thumb hooked over the elastic of his underwear as he pushes them down.

Seb laughs and pushes himself up onto one elbow, bends over to suck a kiss to Chris’s nipple before going for his mouth.

“You want what,” Seb murmurs, reaching down to help Chris get his underwear down.

The second Chris gets his hand on Seb’s bare ass, he groans deeper than he did when Seb first started jerking him off. Seb grins against his open mouth and pushes back against Chris’s palm.

Chris’s brain clearly goes offline quick. He kisses Seb hard and grabs at his ass one-handed, pulling and spreading, fingers sliding up and down.

Ah fuck, Seb gasps - it feels good. He makes a little noise against Chris’s mouth and grinds his dick, still caught under the elastic of his underwear, against Chris’s bare hip. He regrets not sleeping naked.

He rolls his hips forward again, panting at the friction of his dick against the fabric, and then pushes his ass back further, trying to angle Chris’s fingers where he really wants them to go.

Seb’s been hard since he woke up; he hasn’t had a good morning fuck in months.

They shift, repositioning so Chris’s arm isn’t as trapped against the mattress; it feels good when Chris pushes his pointer and middle fingers in. Seb short-circuits, just lays there uselessly, hand hanging loosely around Chris’s dick, mouth open and breathing against his lips.

“Shit,” Seb manages, panting as he lets go of Chris’s cock and reaches up to pull him closer by the back of the neck.

They’re both breathing heavy, now, gone right from half-asleep to horny. Seb rests his forehead against Chris’s shoulder and reaches to continue jerking him off; he tilts his head so he can look at what his hand is doing - fuck, that’s a visual his brain likes.

“Seb,” Chris manages, in a good rhythm now, forearm flexing as he strains to finger Seb’s ass in this position. “Fuck babe.”

Ready to fuck, Seb pushes the covers back, and climbs on top.

~

Later that night, Seb’s at the kitchen counter putting together a sandwich with some of the shit they bought at the deli.

“I was gonna order Thai,” Chris murmurs, stepping up close and wrapping his arms around Seb’s waist from behind.

Seb grins and sets both halves of his sandwich down on a plate. He tilts his head to the side so Chris can kiss at the stubble on his jaw, and says, “I’m wasting away here.”

“Mmm,” Chris agrees, palming his ass.

Offering half the sandwich over one shoulder, they stand there and eat, one of Chris’s hands rested on the small of Seb’s back the whole time.


	91. New Hampshire

Read the full length fic: [New Hampshire](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11954208)


	92. we're finding our own tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: IM IN LOVE WITH UR KNIFE AND FORK SERIES AGHHHHHH ok prompt. seb & chris going to a football game and chris is super into it but seb is like :-/ and tries to make it more interesting ;) if u know ;) what I mean ;)
> 
> anon also asked: hi could I please request Chris and seb at maybe a patriots game? anything with them being cute while Chris is a complete bro. thank you!

“Babe, I have an extra shirt if you want it,” Chris offers, fresh out of the shower and thoughtfully bent over his t-shirt drawer.

Still in bed, Seb makes a face, and says, “I’m good.”

~

On the way to the stadium, they stop to pick up Mike and Christine.

“Ugh, it’s hot,” Christine complains, dumping herself into the back seat.

From up front, Seb laughs and leans over, reaching to direct an air conditioning vent towards her. It is super fucking hot today. For September it’s really acting more like July.

“Turn the thing on,” Chris says unhelpfully, pulling back out into traffic exactly one second after Mike gets his leg in and the door closed.

~

They park in the fancy suite holder parking lot, which is not the worst perk Seb has ever seen.

As Chris comes around the back bumper of the car from the driver’s side, he clicks the fob button with one hand to lock the car, and reaches his other hand out, waiting for Seb to take it.

Honestly, the whole thing is not as bad as Seb was expecting. Despite being sent many a picture of Chris flipping out during a game over the years, this is way different than he imagined.

He was picturing getting jostled by a bunch of fools in nosebleed seats, but by the time they get into the fancy suite, Seb is clocking the leather seats and elaborate food menu.

“I wanna meet a cheerleader,” Mike announces, kicking his feet up with his beer.

Laughing, Seb settles into the seat beside Chris’s, and warns, “Don’t be that guy.”

“Here doll,” Chris says, coming back with two more drinks. He hands Seb one beer, and then as an afterthought, the other beer, too. Then he adds, “I’m gonna go see if I can visit the locker room after,” before disappearing again.

Christine holds it together for about three seconds before she throws her head back and cackles.

Groaning, Seb rests his forehead upon his hand, and leans hard against the arm of the chair.


	93. monster mash - 2019

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2019](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19207474)


	94. monster mash - 2019, pt. 2

Read the full length fic: [monster mash - 2019, pt. 2](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8325631/chapters/19270393)


	95. a very merry christmas - 2019

Read the full length fic: [a very merry christmas - 2019](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8846680/chapters/20518285)


	96. now the flames are burning me in my bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: I've had this prompt for a few days... So Seb is trying to prevent a fan from getting hurt by homophobes at Comic Con and instead they turn to hurt him and Chris loses his shit](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145988062895/anon-asked-ive-had-this-prompt-for-a-few-days)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for homophobic slurs/gross language.

Chris doesn’t mind the convention circuit as much as everyone thinks he does.

Yeah, they’re a little draining, but he gets paid 150k for an afternoon of work that doesn’t include stunts. Sure, some of the fans are a little extra, but they’re the ones lining the studio’s pockets.

There are a lot worse things Chris could be doing with his days than sitting in front of a photographer and taking a thousand pictures.

So, that’s his opinion on conventions. And then one day it changes.

When Shit first starts Going Down, he’s got no context to what’s going on.

One minute he’s wandering around the floor handler-less, waving to the people that scream when they see him, and the next he hears Seb’s voice cutting over a suddenly eerily silent crowd.

“Hey man,” Seb’s saying, using that tone of voice you do when you’re trying to diffuse a situation. “Back it up, okay? That’s not cool.”

Frowning, Chris slides between two girls; there are so many people crowded around Seb’s signing table, it’s hard to see what’s going on. He’s still trying to figure out what’s what when the entire crowd collectively gasps, and then everyone starts yelling.

 _Well, fuck me,_ Chris thinks, gut dropping down to his knees.

He bounces to the side and steps over a roped off area, which he almost knocks down but manages to save just in time. In his peripheral vision he sees a convention organizer raise a com to her mouth and speak into it.

By the time Chris gets to the table, Seb’s already climbed over it and is crouched down beside someone on the floor. Chris’s heart sinks.

And then everything happens so fast - there’s so much confusion and miscommunication - Chris has no idea what’s happening until some guy launches back out of the crowd and gets a sucker punch to the back of Seb’s head.

“Hey!” Chris immediately snaps. The lingering confusion in his body is immediately flooded out with adrenaline.

He zeroes in on the fuckhead. He’s got his back turned to Chris, trying to disappear into the crowd, but they’ve fully turned on him - multiple people are holding him back, offering him up to Chris or security: whoever gets there first.

Chris beats security. He takes two strides forward and yanks the guy back by the back of his shirt. The guy is totally fucking fuming, red in the face and sweaty around the hairline.

“Fucking fags,” He spits, and Chris just has a moment where his entire world narrows to this one interaction. All he sees is a tunnel of rage, and this dude is in the center.

Behind him, Seb is swearing viciously. Chris glances back over one shoulder to make sure he’s okay. He’s got one hand on the back of his head, likely checking for blood, and his body is propped back against the edge of the signing table. He’s disoriented.

The girl Chris saw earlier is still laying on the floor, but she’s awake. Stunned.

Chris turns back to the guy he’s still holding by the shirt, and leans in close.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Chris tells him, dropping his voice as low as he can to make the words as sharp and as vicious as possible. “I would be ashamed to know you.”

Four security guys show up at once, better late than never. Two of them try to quarantine the crowd while the other two take the guy out of Chris’s grip. A medic appears as well, beelining right for Seb and the girl.

Chris doesn’t realize how tight he was squeezing the guy until he has to actively work to loosen his grip and let go.

“We’re fucking charging him,” Chris says, pointing to the guy, who is now grimacing and spitting as security escorts him away. “Call the cops.”

There’s a stunned silence, and then a few people start to clap awkwardly.

Chris turns, running a hand through his hair, and looks at the girl still laying on the ground.

“You okay?” He breathes, as the medic moves from Seb to kneel down next to her. 

Still out of it and panicky, the girl nods and gives a shaky smile to the medic now helping her up. Chris nods back, still frowning.

“Fuck,” Seb groans. He sounds a little spaced-out, which snaps Chris back to reality. He turns and wraps one arm around Seb’s shoulders, then flaps his free hand when a security guard tries to offer an extra hand. As they start towards the curtain, Seb grumbles, “I think I’m concussed.”

“I can’t think straight right now,” Chris admits, still trembling with rage.

Seb makes another noise and leans more of his weight against Chris’s side.

He doesn’t complain when Chris holds the curtain back for both of them.

~

At the hospital, Chris’s bout of shock turns into straight up hysteria, which is a surprise to him.

“I don’t need the bed,” Seb grumbles again, holding the ice pack to his head.

Chris bites his fingernails and reaches to holds Seb’s free hand. He can only think to parrot what the nurse said earlier. He says, “It’s procedure.”

“Ugh,” Seb sighs, leaning back into the pillows.

The cops have already been by to take their statements.

Seb’s was very clear: he was in the area for a signing that was supposed to begin in ten minutes. From the other side of the curtain, he heard two fans talking about he and Chris’s relationship. The guy intervened, threw around some gross words, and started to shove. Security wasn’t in the immediate area, so Seb intervened.

And, a few minutes later, Chris happened to walk by.

“He fucking sucker punched you,” Chris frowns, petting the back of Seb’s hand again. His skin feels cold from the IV. Chris gets caught up with his own thoughts for a second, entire body tense. He shakes his head and admits, “I saw red.”

Seb chuckles, groans, and closes his eyes. He says, “Yeah, you and me both.”

The doctor looks Seb over again twenty minutes later. He’s got a mild concussion, but nothing irreparable. He’s advised against banging his head on anything for the next three months. Chris asks more questions than Seb does.

After speaking to the girl who ended up on the floor, the cops come back to provide more details on how to press charges. Chris takes all the information for their lawyer, and then promises Seb will be in touch.

“Ugh,” Seb sighs, while Chris is wheeling him out to the car an hour later. “I can’t believe that happened in front of what... three hundred fans?”

“Fuck that,” Chris replies easily. He stops pushing, and angles the wheelchair against the curb. “That guy was a total prick.”

Seb lurches out of the wheelchair - didn’t really even need it in the first place, but it’s another hospital policy - and lets Chris open the passenger side door of the rental for him.

That’s when Chris knows he’s really not feeling good.

~

The car ride back to their hotel is quiet.

Chris is still silently freaking out, fingers wrapped tight around the gearshift. He almost rear ends some asshole on the freeway.

They gave Seb some painkillers for the headache, which Chris has in his pocket, and a mega man dose of ibuprofen, which Seb threw back before they left emerg.

“You want me to go to the store for anything?” Chris asks as they park, thinking back to when he was a kid and his mom would buy him all the good shit when he wasn’t feeling good.

Seb shakes his head, kicks his door open, and starts levering himself out of the car. Chris is circling around, calf bumping into the bumper, when he realizes there’s someone taking their picture.

“Hey man, that’s really not fucking cool,” He calls, coming to a stop beside Seb’s door.

From inside the car, Seb groans. He looks up at Chris and says, “Please let me get out.”

The guy is still taking pictures. Chris is still frowning so much his whole face is one big grimace. Once Seb’s fully up and walking towards the hotel entrance, Chris turns around and fingers the camera guy.

A few hours later, pretty much every tabloid outlet in the US has already picked up the pictures.

Man, Chris’s publicist is gonna be mad at him later.


	97. the only broken hearted loser you'll ever need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: For Fork and Knife, Chris gets badly hurt ( football injury or whatever) and Seb goes CRAZY. I just love mother hen Seb. Thx and lots of <3](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145520653555/for-fork-and-knife-chris-gets-badly-hurt)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, freaking out significant others are one of my PERSONAL fav tropes.

Seb is trying to hook up the new TV when he gets the call.

“Hey,” He greets, tucking his phone into the crook of his neck. “You wanna get some beer on your way home and -”

There’s a crackle on the line, and then Scott says, “It’s me, hey, we’re uh, at the hospital.”

Seb accidentally drops the new remote.

“What!?” He blurts. His stomach flips, weightless for a second, that universal feeling for _rollercoaster drop_ or _very bad news_. Before Scott can say anything else, Seb shouts, “What happened?!”

In the background, there’s that distinct sound of Hospital: a cart being wheeled on marble floor, the muffled sound of a doctor being paged on the intercom.

Seb pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

“Chris is fine, well, like,” Scott pauses, flustered, and then tries again, “He was fucking around and dislocated an arm. They’re doing x-rays now, doctor doesn’t think it broke, but man, he’s fucked up looking.”

“Fuck,” Seb breathes, already by the front door, grabbing his keys and wallet and trying to toe Dodger back from darting out to the car with him. “What hospital?”

~

Chris is at Cedar-Sinai, which Seb has read about in various US Weekly celebrity pregnancy articles. He double parks and heads for emergency, forgetting to take his sunglasses off until he’s approaching the intake counter.

“Hey, I have a family member in here,” He greets, pausing to offer up the quick pulse of a moderately apologetic smile. He slides his sunglasses to the top of his head, and adds, “I need to know where he is.”

The nurse arches an eyebrow at him, and reaches for a file that another nurse hands her from the other side of the counter.

“Patient name?” She asks.

That’s when Seb knows this whole thing is gonna be a problem.

~

“They won’t let me in,” Seb bitches, pacing around in the back of the hospital. He chews on his thumb and walks back and forth on the cement ramp he’s standing on, “He’s got a restricted file, whatever the fuck that means.”

On the other end of the line, Scott swears and Seb hears shuffling in the background, before a door swings open and there’s the general sound of hospital chatter.

“Hey!” Scott shouts, flagging someone down, Seb figures. He takes a long drag and wearily eyes the edges of the side lot he’s in. “ _Yeah_ , I got a question.”

Seb half listens as Scott bitches about policy and says _someone should have told me_ a half dozen times. It’s a couple minutes before Scott turns his attention back to Seb.

“Come up now, I signed some shit, I don’t know,” Scott is still in rant mode, which never fails to bring a smile to Seb’s face. “He’s going into surgery in an hour, now they think he tore a tendon. He wants to see you.”

“Fuck,” Seb swears again, grimacing against the sun.

~

On his second attempt upstairs, the nurse still gives him a warning glare, but they let him through the ward doors regardless.

 _Politics_ , he thinks semi-hysterically, now jogging down the corridor.

Seb’s heart is in his throat as he rounds the corner to Chris’s private room. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, but his brain feeds him the very worst: bloodied limbs, broken teeth, missing digits...

What he gets is Chris, propped up in bed, with Scott sitting in a plastic chair beside him.

“Hey,” Seb breathes, hustling to the side of the bed. He’s so relieved he thinks he might fall over. Seb doesn’t grab Chris’s hand cause it already looks sore, but he does rest a hand over his thigh. “Sorry, there was a paperwork holdup or something - what the fuck happened?!”

Seb realizes Chris is fucked up on pain meds immediately.

“This fuckin’ guy,” Scott rants, clearly agitated and scared as he looks up from texting someone - probably their mom, “Thinks it’s funny to tackle a meathead twice his size.”

Fucked up, Chris starts laughing, but it’s disjointed, soft, very tired.

“Gotta catch that ball,” He explains, voice rough. Before Seb can say anything else, Chris groans and tips his head back into the pillows. His eyes are bleary, electric blue with the shock of being in hospital, “I’m fuckin’ sore.”

Seb frowns and brushes his fingers through Chris’s hair, thumbs at the shell of his ear and smooths his beard out. He’s never seen Chris injured before, even on set. He thinks he might be going into a little bit of shock himself. The IV in the back of Chris’s hand is freaking him out.

“I gotta call mom,” Scott announces, heaving himself up off the chair. He looks at Chris, then Seb, and asks, “Are you okay here?”

The look Seb levels at him makes Scott laugh and raise his hands up, palms out.

~

“You’ll be fine,” Seb promises, hunched over the side of the bed after they’ve come in to do the pre-op and feed Chris enough Tylenol to take down a small horse. “And I’ll see you soon.”

Chris looks drowsy already, eyes half closed as he lays back against the pillows. Even though he’s stoned, his eyes are tracking Seb, bright blue sliding back and forth as Seb moves from side to side, trying to let the nurses do their thing.

The doctor came in to talk to Seb and Scott half an hour ago. She said the surgery would be forty minutes if all goes according to plan, and Chris can be out of the hospital tomorrow, pain level permitting.

Seb’s already shown their hand here - fretting and worrying and petting is not exactly _great friend and co-worker_ territory - so he only feels a little scared when he leans over to kiss Chris’s forehead, and then his nose, and then his mouth.

The intake nurse that was giving him shit earlier goes a little softer after that.

~

Seb’s in the waiting room, left leg bouncing so hard the magazine he’s holding is shaking in his hands.

“Man,” Scott says beside him, head tipped back, hands tucked under his arms, “You need a xanax or something.”

“Yeah,” Seb answers immediately, nodding his head. If someone offered him a xanax right now he’d take it without hesitation. He’s read half of this magazine and he doesn’t remember anything about it.

It’s been thirty minutes since they took Chris.

He rolls the tabloid up into a tube and continues bouncing his leg, alternating between watching the clock on the wall and the door the doctor should be walking through. It’s 4:44 pm. Chris left at 11:00 am to "grab some food and maybe some ball.”

It’s fucking freaking Sebastian out how fast things can change.

~

After surgery, Chris is fine.

He’s healthy as fuck, had absolutely no problems, and can expect a full recovery with six weeks of careful physio. The doctor tells them Chris is just coming out of the anesthesia in recovery, and as soon as he’s awake he’ll be moved back to his private room.

Seb heads to the private room to wait Chris out; Scott takes Seb’s keys and goes to get them all dinner and check on the dog.

They roll Chris in after Seb’s been sitting there for forty more minutes, pacing.

“Fuck, finally,” He breathes, stopping in his tracks when they bust the doors open with the bottom end of Chris’s bed.

Chris is awake, kind of, ruffled looking and half out of his gown. He’s still got a sticky heart monitor pad stuck to his chest. His arm doesn’t look bad, really, it’s already wrapped up, normal except for the sling.

The orderlies set Chris’s bed up, lock the wheels in, drop his chart in the holder at the bottom of the bed. They’re so in their routine neither of them even acknowledge Seb, just tug the door halfway closed on their way out.

“Hey,” Seb sighs, coming up to the side of the bed that already has the rail down. 

Chris blinks at him sluggishly. Seb doesn’t really know what to say, so he touches Chris’s hair some more, then leans down and gently peels the sticker off of Chris’s chest.

“Tired,” Chris manages, eyes sliding back closed.

Nodding, Seb stands there - considers the chair way too far away right now - and watches Chris fall back asleep, head tilted back against the hospital pillows.


	98. or I'll be left alone forever with my magazines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: Hey! Loooove your Fork and Knife series! Would love more stories with Seb all worried about Chris... :) <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Immediately follows the only broken hearted loser you'll ever need!

“How’s your shoulder?” Seb asks, leaning over the back of the couch to smack a kiss to the side of Chris’s face.

Chris is so fucked up on painkillers it takes him a million years to respond. By the time he turns his head a little, eyebrows raised, Seb is already back up and making his way over to the kitchen.

“Hurts,” he finally manages, tipping his head back against the couch. “Probably not the smartest thing I’ve done.”

That is being... very generous.

“That’s okay,” Seb replies, opening the fridge. He looks over his shoulder with a grin to add, “I don’t like you for your brains.”

Laughing tiredly, Chris rubs his face with his good hand, and then watches Seb moving around the kitchen.

Everything’s great until Chris tries to lean forward, and pulls his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he swears, frustrated.

Beside him, Dodger jerks awake at the sudden noise.

“You okay?” Seb asks carefully, sucking some tomato off his thumb as he drops his knife, and moves back around the island.

“Fine,” Chris scowls, petting Dodger’s head. The dog stretches out, all four paws sticking off the edge of the couch, and falls back asleep with his head at an awkward angle on Chris’s thigh. 

He’s been on these pain pills since the surgery. They seem to help with the actual incision, but the shoulder pain itself is still there, which seems pretty fucked up to Seb.

After a minute of thinking, he makes an executive decision, and brings over the weed container.

“Here,” he says, sitting down on the coffee table between Chris’s knees. He pops the tupperware open and holds out the joint Chris rolled before rolling his shoulder. “Food’s almost ready, too.”

Grimacing, Chris holds out his good hand to accept the joint, and then settles back on the couch while Seb lights it for him and turns around to put the TV back on, which is what he suspects Chris was trying to do in the first place.

After that Seb leaves him to it, and, fifteen minutes later, returns with a plate of sandwiches, a beer for himself, and a Gatorade for his broken dude.

“Mixing weed and pills is probably enough,” Seb explains, setting everything on the coffee table and pushing Dodger’s nose out of the way.

Chris is so baked all he cares about is the sandwiches.

“You’re so good to me babe,” he manages, which makes Seb laugh.

When Chris gets really fucking baked like this, he’s a time bomb before he starts getting teary-eyed at one thing or another. One time he found a miniature cheese fork at his mother’s house and couldn’t stop going on and on about how small it was.

The holidays are always fun.

“Eat your sandwich,” Seb says, leaning over to change the channel from football replays while Chris is distracted.


	99. fix me to a chain around your neck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @sakura9842 asked: Hey can you write evanstan fork and knife setting more in nyc and Boston? ♥
> 
> anon also asked: hi would u write more of evanstan having sex like probably against a wall or over the kitchen table because you write it the best tbh
> 
> [Read this on tumblr](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/146747078805/prompt-new-york-wall-sex)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes and yes!
> 
> ALSO THIS JUST HIT 40,000 WORDS WHAT THE FUCK

It’s been a few years since Chris added Manhattan onto his list of home bases, but every time he visits, it feels like that first night all over again.

New York is just fucking magical; there’s nowhere else in the world like it.

He’s on the subway this afternoon, no hat, no sunglasses, just him - and nobody gives a shit. Everyone is absorbed in their phone, or their newspaper, or just staring out the window at the boroughs rattling by outside.

Chris closes his eyes and leans his head back against the rumbling window.

He’s been all over the city this morning, which started off with a quick business thing in Midtown before meeting up with a friend for lunch. He also stopped by the mall of all fucking places to get some new t-shirts, where he proceeded to take three fan photos in rapid succession, all of whom were tourists.

Chris clearly needs to expand his shopping skill set; he doubts he would have run into anyone wearing a Captain America shirt in some of the places Seb frequents.

So now here he is on the subway, with a six pack of beer butted between his feet, and his newest purchases on the open seat next to him. The best thing about today is: by the time he gets back to their brownstone, Seb should be home.

He’s staring off into space, thinking about all the ways he’s gonna get his dick in Seb the minute he walks through the door, when the man himself calls.

“Hey doll,” Chris greets, bringing his phone up to his ear.

Fuck Sebastian and the way he keeps trying to convince Chris to convert to earbuds.

“Hi - where are you!” Seb replies.

Chris can hear the rush of street traffic behind him.

“Almost home,” Chris says, adjusting the beer bag between his feet. “Where are you?”

Seb closes a door, and the background noise drops.

“Just got in,” He replies, and then explains, “Had to make a detour to grab some coffee - I’m dead on my feet, man.”

Chris looks up with a grin; he’s only two stops away from theirs.

“I can help you with that,” He promises.

~

“Oh my god,” Seb laughs against Chris’s warm, open mouth.

The corners of Chris’s lips are dangerously close to tipping up into a smile, but he manages to temper them with a soft laugh as he slides his tongue against Seb’s, hands going down to rest around his waist.

Seb’s laugh turns into a groan as Chris backs him up against the door frame.

“I’m awake,” Seb jokes, swallowing back another noise as Chris sucks down the side of his neck and buries his nose in the soft fabric of his sweater.

“Oh god,” Chris breathes, eyes closed, hands on Seb’s waist. He doesn’t move his face from where it’s pressed into Seb’s skin, just closes his eyes and says, “I missed you.”

With a little smile, Seb turns to press his mouth against the side of Chris’s head, and murmurs, “The other night some guy watched me jerk off. He said the same thing to me, made all kinds of promises I don’t know he can keep.”

“Hey,” Chris laughs, taking the opportunity to slide one hand down the front of Seb’s jeans, and the other down the back. It’s a tight fit. “You’re funny.”

Seb grins at him, raises his eyebrows, and nods, “I’m hilarious.”

“I liked you better on Facetime,” Chris admits, but then grins as Seb’s mouth drops open the minute Chris gets his hand around his dick.

Eyes closed, Seb nods and drops his head back against the door frame; his knees buckle and his legs relax, but the rest of him stiffens up, trying to keep his body upright as Chris starts jerking him off.

“My fingers are gonna be inside you in about fifteen seconds,” Chris murmurs, still nosing against the side of Seb’s face. “You want something other than the wall?”

Sucking in a laugh, Seb’s entire face creases up as he gasps and then shakes his head, “No.”

“Fuck,” Chris swears, groaning as his palm slides down Seb’s ass, back of his hand skimming past tight underwear and jeans. He stops jerking Seb off, just leaves his hand wrapped around his dick as he tries to get himself together.

Chris is the biggest fucking fan of getting up in Seb’s ass. If heaven is real it better include getting to finger the guy whenever he wants.

“Come on, what the fuck,” Seb complains, widening his stance and groaning again when Chris’s thigh presses up against his balls.

Once Chris has had a minute to pull himself together, he presses a kiss underneath Seb’s ear and slides his palm further down, until he can pull at Seb’s ass, groaning when Seb pushes back into it.

“Babe, fuck,” Chris swears, a knee-jerk reaction as Seb grinds forward into his hand.

Panting, Seb reaches for Chris’s jeans, and fumbles to get the buckle open.

~

Fucking up against the hallway door frame was not actually Chris’s original plan, but he’s happy to take credit for it.

Having sex standing up is always an adventure, but after a few moments of repositioning, Seb swears - loudly - and smacks his head back against the wall.

In front of him, Chris is holding one of Seb’s calves up around his hips, and pinning Seb’s other leg to the wall with one knee. The leverage Chris gets in this position is ridiculous; he plants his palm against the wall beside Seb’s ear, grabs his opposite hip, and gets to fucking.  
“Oh my god,” Seb keeps saying, stuck in a loop as he tilts his head back and tugs Chris’s closer to his chest.

Chris rests his forehead against Seb’s shoulder and bites his lip, loving the way Seb grabs at his shoulders and tries to climb up onto his tippy toes.

It doesn’t take long to come. With two weeks between them and countless jerk off sessions aided with a bit of Facetime, Seb is jerking off all over his stomach before Chris has even had the chance to properly bend him in half.

Once he comes, Seb drops down to his knees and sucks Chris the rest of the way off right there; efficient, effective, and minimal clean-up.

He also knows Chris would give him whatever he wants when he’s staring up at him after, all smiley and red mouthed and happy with himself.

“I bought you beer and food,” Chris says a little while later, brain still noticeably jarred by his orgasm, as he thumbs at Seb’s stomach and accepts a kiss. “Then I wanna fuck you again.”

Seb nods, and presses Chris back into the wall for another kiss.

~

Chris picked up a bunch of random deli food on his way home, so they crank the living room windows open, put on one of Seb’s playlists, and hang out on the tiny little iron balcony outside.

It’s really too small for two beefy dudes, but it suits them just fine.

“This one’s mustard,” Chris says, handing over a little condiment packet.

Seb grunts his acceptance, accepts the mustard, and reaches for his plate, which is already stacked with five different things.

“Good to be home,” Seb says, taking a bite of his macaroni salad.

Beside him, Chris nods and lets himself sink into it - the sounds of the city below, Seb warm against his side even in the early fall air, the familiarity of the living room stretching on behind them.

“It missed you,” Chris replies, eventually, bumping their elbows together.


	100. stars are just a million little fireflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: this is silly, but after hearing Chris ramble about his fear of spiders I would love to see a ficlet that brings that up :D](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/148626992455/anon-asked-this-is-silly-but-after-hearing-chris)

If you’d like to see a two hundred pound man knock his beer over, scare the shit out of the dog, and smash his calf against the edge of the coffee table, Seb would like to invite you into their home.

“I seriously can’t tell where it went,” Seb repeats, standing in-between the couch and the chair and staring at the wall.

Behind him, Chris makes a grossed out noise, and scratches at his arm.

“It’s there, I know it’s fucking there!” He says, before adding in a whine, “I’m missing the game.”

Seb frowns and turns around. The look on his face says more than his words ever could.

“I was sleeping,” He finally intones, voice flat.

Inching back towards where the spider originally skittered across the wall, Chris makes a face and replies, “I don’t like that I don’t know where it is.”

“I believe in you, man,” Seb promises, coming back around the couch to grab Chris by the shoulder and kiss him on the mouth. He steps back and announces, “I’m going back to bed.”

Frowning, Chris looks between the TV, which is playing this morning’s Patriots game, and the couch, now soaked with beer. He scratches his arm again, and takes one cautious step forward.

“If it comes back, I’ll call you,” Chris finally manages, sounding unsure of himself.

Seb is already en route back to bed, but throws a thumbs up over his shoulder anyways.


	101. i am glad you found a good man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: hey so I am completely obsessed with your evanstan series. I am a dedicated subscriber. so here's a lil prompt: their first award show together](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/149739024800/anon-asked-hey-so-i-am-completely-obsessed-with)

**3:50 pm**

Chris turns the water off, grabs his towel, and steps out of the shower.

“Should I shave?” he asks, wrapping the towel around his waist. He scratches indecisively at his chin - just stubble, not yet a beard - and arches his eyebrows.

In the hotel bathroom mirror, Seb meets Chris’s reflected gaze, shakes his head in a decisive _no_ , and leans over to spit his mouthful of toothpaste into the sink.

Seeing a short window of opportunity, Chris sneaks up and noses against the nape of Seb’s neck. He’s still got Bucky hair, and it’s just long enough for Chris to nuzzle into.

“Get outta here, you’re wet,” Seb laughs, ahhh-ing in surprise when Chris switches to rubbing his stubbly face along the line of Seb’s bare shoulder.

Chris takes the towel from around his waist to rub over his head instead, and immediately gets lost inside the overly fluffy hotel linen for a second. When he manages to find his way back out of it, he peers over Seb’s shoulder, and gives him a grin.

“Sorry, doll. You’re stuck with me now,” he teases, right as Seb cracks up and says, “You’re the _worst_.”

~

**4:45 pm**

“Should we eat first? I always get hungry at these things,” Seb muses, flipping through the room service menu aimlessly as they wait for the town car to arrive downstairs. “They’re so long.”

Across the room, Chris is sprawled across the couch, one foot kicked up as he texts his agent about tonight, even though she’ll be meeting up with them at the show.

“We’ll go for burgers after,” he says, knotting his eyebrows as he tries to talk and read at the same time.

~

**6:22 pm**

The red carpet is unreal.

It shouldn’t really surprise him, but it does. Technically - well, paparazzi pictures aside - this is the first official event they’ve attended as a couple, something that is made very evident by the way the press unleash on them.

They’re fucking ruthless tonight, yelling both their names and booing them when they move further down the carpet instead of continuing to pose for pictures.

Seb laughs, because he’s way better at handling these kinds of things than Chris is, and says, “Hey, guys, come on.”

Sunglasses firmly affixed to his face, Chris follows after his agent, and doesn’t let go of Seb’s hand.

~

**8:49 pm**

Chris miscalculated and drank way too much champagne between sitting down at their table, and having to get back up to present.

Luckily his equally tipsy, far better dressed significant other is at his side.

Backstage, Seb takes the little winner’s card they have to crack open, and Chris nods along as the stage hand rattles off things to remember - exit on the right, don’t stand in frame while the winner makes their speech - simple shit, but hard to remember when you’re standing in front of a theatre of people.

It’s fucking bizarre to walk across the stage and be introduced as Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan, stars of the Captain America franchise. Weirder still to come to a stop in front of the microphone, and have to wait as everyone claps for them.

Clap for the dudes who were ballsy enough to come out in this climate, is what everyone’s faces say, as Chris rolls back on his feet and smiles, trying not to blush under the weight of awkward recognition.

Beside him, Seb laughs and says, “Wow, thanks - hi guys.”

They present the award together, and Chris flubs his lines but ends up cracking up at Seb trying to recover for them both. By the time they get to actually reading off the nominees names, they’re totally off the teleprompter and the audience might be as in love with Seb as Chris is.

As the winner makes her speech, they stand to the side, and Chris can’t help but stare at Seb a little, in awe as usual.

~

**10:00 pm**

They decide to ditch the afterparties and go out for a late dinner instead.

There’s a little burger place they’ve been going to every time they’re out this way in LA, so they get dropped off by the town car there. Seb goes up to the counter with their order while Chris snags a good table in the back.

Fifteen minutes later they’re digging in, ties loosened, suit jackets off, and sleeves rolled up to their elbows.

“God that’s good,” Seb murmurs, staring at his burger as he chews it.

Chris slays two fries through his splatter of ketchup and makes an agreeable noise, tilting his head back as he navigates the food into his mouth.

~

**11:34 pm**

By the time they get back to the hotel - paid for by the studio, just so they could be close to the awards show venue - Chris is fucking beat.

“I’m too full,” he groans, stripping out of his suit.

On the bed, Seb yawns and nods and runs a hand through his hair.

“That was fun,” Seb muses, as Chris wanders over in his socks and underwear and runs his fingers through Seb’s hair, tilting his head back. When they meet eyes, Seb adds, “Let’s never do it again.”

Laughing, Chris nods, and leans down to give Seb a kiss.

“You’re the best date ever,” he murmurs, leaning forward as Seb’s hands come up to rest on his hips.


	102. I stay up late anticipating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [silentwalrus asked: now i wanna see them do Cabo. Or any vacation haha]()

The hotel ends up being way nicer than either one of them were expecting it to be.

“Jesus,” Seb announces, dropping his carry-on as Chris closes the front door of the villa behind them.

This is not exactly the generic grey-and-cream colored hotel rooms they usually get shuttled around during press tours. The room they’re standing in only has three walls, and opens up right onto the beach, pure white sands and all.

“Unreal,” Chris echoes from behind Seb, “Look at that view - wow.”

Seb smiles a little, watching the side of Chris’s profile as he lifts his sunglasses off his face, squints into the distance, and immediately rests them back on his nose.

It’s true, though, the view is - well, it’s beautiful, is what it is, and if they’ve got two weeks off in-between work commitments, Seb is grateful this is how they get to spend it.

“Let’s get some food and sit on the beach,” Seb suggests, watching as Chris wanders around the room poking at stuff.

Chris nods and smacks a kiss to his shoulder before checking out the bedroom.

~

Half an hour later they’re in beach chairs in the sand.

Chris booked them into the ~luxury end of the hotel, so they’ve got plenty of space and privacy. Not that it would be the end of the world, but the last thing Seb really feels like doing is turning up on Instagram this week, and he knows Chris feels the same.

Actually, that’s probably the understatement of the century.

"I don’t understand it,” He rants, picking at the plate of crab legs he’s currently balancing on his stomach. Seb laughs and takes another picture of the ocean. “And anyway, the only things I take pictures of are you and the dog.”

That’s not totally true; one time, Seb saw him sneakily take a picture with a life-size ad of Tom Brady. Chris was drunk at the time, but that could hardly be used as a defence.

“People love me and the dog,” Seb grins, tilting his head back against the chair to look over at Chris with a happy look on his face.

Chris tries to frown back at him, but it just turns into a smile, and then he ends up reaching over to squeeze Seb’s bare shoulder with one hand.

“Baby,” He tries again, bringing his hand back to the crab he’s working with, face grimacing in concentration as he tries to crack the leg, “There’s no way my bare dick is ending up on the internet.”

Laughing, Seb looks over at Chris and asks, “Who’s putting your dick on the internet?!”

“Me,” He says confidently, reaching for his beer. “You put me on a website to share pictures, that’s exactly what’s gonna happen.”

Seb just ends up laughing more, and then shaking his head.

It’s not like Chris is wrong - if any one celebrity is gonna fuck up on Instagram and accidentally share a dick pic with the world, it’s probably Chris - but it’s funny to think about anyway.

~

They get a hook up through the front desk concierge - seriously, a trick that always works - and spend the remainder of the night in the little terrace off their bedroom.

“Here,” Chris says quietly, nudging Seb gently when he zones out on staring at the sky.

Seb turns his head a little, wet hair sticking to Chris’s bare shoulder, and accepts the joint back. He’s fresh out of the shower, towel still wrapped around his waist, and snugged up against Chris’s side in the hammock.

His arm always goes under, and Chris’s always goes over.

“We should go on vacation more often,” Seb jokes, pausing to take a long drag and hold it, handing the j back to Chris. As he exhales, he adds, “And also get a hammock.”

Laughing, Chris tightens his arm around Seb’s shoulders a little, and twists around to press a kiss to his bottom lip.

“You’re my favorite thing,” Chris says, stoned, before tilting back to look at the sky.


	103. laetitia, you destroy me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [anon asked: LOVE your Fork and Knife series. How about Seb being extremely jealous when someone flirts with Chris..?](http://sidnihoudini.tumblr.com/post/145493844335/anon-asked-love-your-fork-and-knife-series-how)

Seb could write a book about all the signals Chris doesn’t pick up on when he’s out in the wild.

In the last month:

_The girl at the deli._

She blushes every time Chris comes in, unable to look him in the face while she fumbles with his bank card and packs he and Seb’s lunch order up in a paper bag.

While she’s running the receipt with trembling hands, Chris waits in front of the counter, rocking back on his heels, hands in his pockets. 

He’s always fully engrossed in something - this week it’s touching the sample size containers, and then reading a box thing fundraising for a lady with Alzheimers. He digs a $20 bill out of his wallet and jams it through the little coin slot before accepting his bank card back from the girl with a smile.

_The guy at the mechanic._

Chris’s car has been sitting in the driveway for six months untouched, so he brings it in for a quick tune up. Seb gets roped into it too, cause he’ll say yes to anything when Chris has his dick in his mouth.

So there Seb is, sitting in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs lining the waiting area while Chris gets his oil changed. Seb’s shifting back and forth, flipping through an auto magazine from 2014, trying to shift into a comfortable position that doesn’t have him directly on his sore ass.

Up at the counter Chris is talking with one of the shop guys. He’s laughing and touching and reaching to finger the guy’s nametag to memory, and the guy is red from throat to hairline as he tries to keep up with the amount of attention Chris is throwing his way.

Seb grins, magazine forgotten, one leg crossed over the other at the knee, and a thumb between his teeth. He loves watching unsuspecting people get hammered with Chris’s attention for the first time. Chris is suddenly laughing again, walking backwards, pointing at the guy and joking, “But I’m not gonna commit! I can’t commit yet, John, but I promise ya, I’m a commitment kinda guy!”

_The waitress at the bar._

A bunch of Seb’s old New York friends come out for a drink after a short, intense group chat following he and Chris landing in NYC. They’re formative year friends, the kind that can eyeball someone from across the room and say “it’s not gonna work out.”

Of course, they’re all in love with Chris. Both as individuals and as a hive mind.

“I would fucking _die_ ,” Riley says, drunk, as they watch Chris ordering a round of shots and laughing with the bartender. “If I had to watch the entire world fall in love with my boyfriend.”

Seb grins and sips at his drink, says, “I’m real confident. I suck dick like a champ.”

You haven’t seen Chris until you’ve had him sex drunk: cheeks flushed, brain frazzled, speech reduced to monosyllabic words.

“Oh my god,” She laughs, throwing her cocktail stirrer at Seb’s face.

_The ex-girlfriend._

It’s - wait, Seb needs a second to remember - Chris’s friend's sister’s wedding, and she’s getting married to Chris’s ex-girlfriend’s once-divorced brother.

Seb is sweating already, dressed to the fucking nines and fanning himself with a program. It’s 11:30 and they’ve already been up at the Cape since Friday.

Beside him, on another rickety folding chair, Chris is eating a small piece of quiche, balanced on an even smaller plate on his knee. He’s eating it with a fork which is something Seb will never understand.

In fact, Seb is watching Chris eat the tiny quiche with a steadily rising level of annoyance when someone dressed in a lilac sundress stops in front of them, thankfully blocking the sun.

“Oh my god,” Chris bumbles, mouth full of food, “ _Hey._ ”

It’s the exact moment that Seb realizes he’s cool with a lot of things - like, a _lot_ of things - but as soon as someone rolls in that has a history and suitcase full of past feelings, Seb is _#NotHereForIt._

Without thinking, he stops fanning himself with the program and lets that hand fall along the back of Chris’s chair.

“Wow, wow! I haven’t seen you in a long time,” Chris is babbling, setting his paper plate down on the empty seat next to them and standing up. He goes in for a hug even though his face is covered in sweat, and then stands back, holding her at arm’s length. “You look great.”

“Thanks, you too,” She smiles, and man, she’s pretty. She nods at Seb, still sitting down, taking up two chairs now, and says, “Introduce me!”

“Oh fuck, oh - man, where are my manners,” Chris says, laughing, blushing, turning around to face Seb. “Seb, this is Rachel, a friend of mine from high school. Rach, this is Seb, my boyfriend.”

Seb smiles and accepts her handshake, nods his head and says, “It’s really nice to meet you!”

And it’s fine - it actually is nice to meet her, she’s fucking funny as Seb finds out later that night, but it still _sticks to him_ like nothing else ever has. He’s watched thousands of people hug Chris, flirt with Chris, awkwardly compliment Chris, but Rachel fucks him up.

“Good party,” Chris says that night, when it’s pitch black outside and they’re wandering the short distance between the venue and the hotel.

Seb frowns, still trying to figure it out, and nods.

“Weird to see people you went to school with,” He finally allows.

“Aw yeah,” Chris breathes, reaching for Seb’s hand. He winds their fingers together and then tugs Seb to his side, til he can get one arm around his shoulders. “I’m glad you were there most of all.”

With a laugh, Seb elbows him back a little, but then drops his weight into Chris’s side, enjoying the sound of their combined shoe soles scuffing up the concrete.

Rachel’s alright, he’ll admit. He got the better end of the stick.


	104. yeah but I wish you were my shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anon asked: *casually slides you $10* pretty please more of boston accent + chris calling seb his doll? that pet name just came out so cute and sweet and like... incongruous but in a really awesome way?? i'm sure seb was a little baffled (but amused) the first time it happened

“Babe,” Chris yells over one shoulder, balancing half a can of Red Bull on the flat of his palm, “check me out!”

Across the bar, Seb laughs, and watches as Chris gives him a thumbs up before going back to the game of pool he’s playing with Mike.

“You know,” Jeannie starts, sounding thoughtful as she looks over at Chris, and wraps a loose hand around her beer. “Sometimes we don’t know who we’re going to end up with.”

That makes Seb crack up, one hand on his face as the waitress brings him a fresh drink, and a round of shots on the house.

They’re here celebrating Mike’s fortieth birthday, after getting back into town late last night. And as much as Seb hates to admit it sometimes, it’s nice spending the holidays here in Boston.

“Hey, that’s my guy,” Seb grins, leaning back in the bar stool and watching as Chris watches Mike line up a shot, and then flip out when he misses it.

Over in the corner of the bar, Chris throws his arms up in the air and yells so loud it cuts through the music. As Mike yells back at him from the other side of the pool table, Chris takes off his hat, adjusts it just slightly, and then sets it back on his head.

“Can’t win em all,” Christine laughs, reaching for a peanut.

~

Bogey shows up right before midnight, which means the Bad Ideas part of the night gets kicked off with two back-to-back rounds of shots.

“It’s Captain America!” some random drunk guy exclaims, eyebrows up to his hairline as his girlfriend tries to escort him away by the elbow.

That’s how Seb ends up watching Chris take a drunken selfie with some random fan.

“Where’d he go,” Chris says loudly, squinting through the crowd while the fan flips through his camera roll, checking out the picture. “Ahhh! There he is! Seb! Baby!”

Seb, also drunk but at least three times as charming as usual, rolls up and rests one hand on Chris’s shoulder. Chris is perfectly arm height when he’s sitting on this bar stool. Seb inches his hand around to cover Chris’s face up with one hand, and sips his drink with the other.

“Shit, Bucky!” the fan exclaims, eyes going wide.

~

After closing, they set out to find cigarettes and hot dogs.

Seb and Christine walk up ahead, leaving Mike and Chris to follow behind. He has no idea what happened to Bogey and Jeannie, but at this point, he’s too drunk to care.

They mutually cave in - as a group - and send Christine into the nearest 7/11 to buy a pack of smokes and a lighter.

“Don’t even get me started, bro,” Chris says, directly into Seb’s ear.

He and Mike have been bickering since the pool game. It was easy to block out while they were still at the bar, but Seb finds it more difficult to do now that it’s just the four of them staggering around the city like a bunch of idiots.

Chris being wrapped around him from behind doesn’t help, either.

“Oh don’t get him started,” Mike cackles, before saying in a high, girly voice, “Watch out, don’t get him started!”

Laughing, Seb looks over right as Christine comes out of the 7/11 with a pack of smokes in one hand and a plastic bag full of undisclosed contents in the other.

“Shut the fuck up, you two,” she bitches, pulling an energy drink for each of them out of her plastic bag. “You’re so fucking dumb.”

A few minutes later they resume their journey to find street food; Chris and Seb sharing one cigarette and Red Bull, and Mike and Christine sharing the other.

“Here you go doll,” Chris says, holding the cigarette out for Seb to take back.

Because his hands are full, with a Red Bull in one hand and Chris’s hand in the other, Seb leans forward and takes the cigarette out of Chris’s fingers with his mouth.

“Thanks,” he manages, handing the drink over in return.


	105. batter up

“Oh my god,” Seb laughs, deleting that one too. “Just look normal!”

Pushing the dog’s face away from his dinner plate, Chris looks back up at Seb and raises his eyebrows.

“This is my face, babe.” He goes to put a forkful of rice into his mouth, but then pauses to add, “Take it or leave it.”

Seb grins at the screen of his phone, still focused on Chris, and cackles, “I’ll leave it.”

“Get out of here.” Chris nudges the dog away again, and then looks up suspiciously as Seb walks over, body led by his phone in one hand. “What?”

Still looking pretty happy with himself, Seb says, “Smile regular.”

Chris arranges his face into what he’s pretty sure is a smile, but then Seb starts grinning wider and cracking up.

“You’re mean to me,” Chris states for the record. “Very, very mean.”

Stealing a nug off of Chris’s plate, Seb agrees, “The meanest.”


End file.
